


Let Me Adore You

by Foxen, novaed (orphan_account)



Series: Cheirophilia [3]
Category: The Mandalorian (TV), the mandalorian (LadyIrinia AU)
Genre: Adoption, Copious Amounts of Fluff, Corin begins to get a clue, Din use your WORDS, Family of Choice, Fanart, Fluff, Found Family, Gen, Hands, Helmet removal, Hurt/Comfort, Keldabe Kiss, M/M, Near Drowning, Only One Bed, So Much Touching, Touch-Starved, Touching, aliit, and is the taller of the two ty, at the end of the final chapter, but he does have an oral fixation, corin is not an idiot, cuddling for warmth, doesn't mean he's obilvious, feelings are hard when you've grown up ignoring them, finger kisses, in which there is a bit of plot, in which they FINALLY start to use their words, name kink, naming an alien species is hard don't @ us, serious threat of hypothermia, sorta - Freeform, susdavi is a badass and takes shit from no one, susdavi: queen of snark and master manipulator, thats a thing right, we did so much research omg, we hope you love our oc as much as we do
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-16
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:01:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 41,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22282306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Foxen/pseuds/Foxen, https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/novaed
Summary: His gut clenches in apprehension; the whole thing had been too easy and he has a bad feeling that they're missing something.It had taken them three days to get to the crash site. The weather had been relatively clear, the snow and ice smooth and easy to transverse. They spend their third night at the site, resting.They’re on the second day of the return trip when Corin’s good luck turns sour.--Directly follows part two in the series Cheirophilia.
Relationships: Baby Yoda & Corin the Stormtrooper (Rescue and Regret) & The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV), Baby Yoda (The Mandalorian TV) & Corin the Stormtrooper (Rescue and Regret), Corin the Stormtrooper (Rescue and Regret)/The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)
Series: Cheirophilia [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1575679
Comments: 84
Kudos: 423





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LadyIrina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyIrina/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Family and Home](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21758992) by [LadyIrina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyIrina/pseuds/LadyIrina). 
  * Inspired by [Rescue and Regret](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21648874) by [LadyIrina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyIrina/pseuds/LadyIrina). 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Goodness! Sorry for the delay on this guys! I started school again last week and it was also Nova's turn to get sick...both really put a damper on getting this out to you sooner.
> 
> It also didn't help that this part decided to grow into a monster on us lmao. We were originally thinking it was going to be about 10-15k in all. We ended up having to cut Chapter one in a different place, because it was going to be over 10k by itself. So now we have this guy! The total word count for this fic is looking to be between 25-30k. We hope.
> 
> We hope you enjoy reading this as much as we have had writing it!
> 
> ~Fox
> 
> Fox basically said it sifnsifiwj
> 
> I also started school this week, but we both plan to make time for this so!!! High hopes to get this out here for y’all lovelies!
> 
> Thank you so much for your comments and kudos, they’ve been highly motivating us to get this done and out here!! <3
> 
> \- Nova
> 
> Updates Fridays (unless we decide to update sooner ;ldfkj)

It’s hard to depart Gaiwei.

The Child pats the off-white sand one last time, his big, dark eyes awfully wistful for his age. Din is off in the cockpit going down his necessary preflight checklist for the ship --something easy to forget when constantly on the run. 

Corin can’t help but feel wistful as well. A lot had happened on this little moon. 

A smile tugs at his lips.

_ Din _ , he thinks to himself, fighting not to mouth the singular syllable. He’s still unsure where they stand -- they haven’t talked about anything concretely and Corin isn’t sure how to bring it up -- but he decides things are okay. Din trusts him. Trusts him with his  _ name  _ and the kid and that is good enough for him. He doesn’t need to see his face, doesn’t need anything more than what he has right now.

Corin follows close behind the little one as they go up the ramp to the ship. He chuckles, watching as he pulls up and fusses with the teal linen clothes he had been wearing the last few days.

“You ready to change back to your robe?” he asks the Child. “I can only imagine what your dad has next for us, yeah?” He gets a happy chirp in response and watches as small green fingers reach out to where his robe sits on the little table in the ship’s main quarters.

Before the Child can take matters into his own hands, Corin takes the robe off the table and crouches in front of him. 

“Alright, arms up.” 

Both of his little arms shoot up right away and Corin snorts as he takes the teal linen off and quickly readjusts him back into his robe. 

“There.”

His large ears flutter and wiggle as he shakes his head from the outfit change, but when he’s fully adjusted in his familiar clothes, he giggles and does a shuffle. His arms peek out from within the sleeves and he presses his face into the robe, soaking in the way it smells. Corin fixes the wispy white hair atop his head from where they were standing.

Corin’s smile is bright as he asks, “Are you happy to be back in your robe?”

The kid’s head bobs in a wobbly nod and Corin chuckles again as he picks him up when he reaches his small hands out for him. He knows exactly where the kid wants to go, so he ventures his way up the ladder as the boarding ramp draws itself back in with a hiss.

The Child is pliant as they make their way up and the two of them peek over the edge to find Din messing with the navigational panel. The checklist doesn’t have checking that as a prerequisite, so he guesses that Din has moved on to plotting their next course. He lets the Child down on the ground when he starts to squirm out of his grasp before pulling himself the rest of the way up, watching the way the kid shuffles over to the Mandalorian and grabs a hold of his pant leg. Corin watches fondly as Din goes from looking at the panel intently to down his leg to find the kid. Din picks him up with no hesitation and looks back at Corin. 

“Did the boarding ramp close all the way?” Din asks. 

Corin ponders for a moment before saying guiltily, scratching behind his ear, “Sounded like it did.” He can feel exasperation coming from behind the helmet and he raises his hands in defense. “It made the hissing noise! Hydraulic hissing...thing.”

He doesn’t get an answer back immediately, but Corin’s sure that was enough time for an eye roll. He bites his tongue to keep from retorting. 

Din lets out a small huff. “I’ll double-check it after I finish up here. Why don’t you go get the kid down for a nap? It’s going to take a while to reach our next destination.”

“Oh,” Corin sticks his tongue out against his lip thoughtfully, curious now. Din hadn’t told him where they were going in advance like he usually did, so he wonders what’s in the works. “Where are we going?”

“You’ll find out when we get there,” is the vague response. Din hands the Child over to him and he receives a coo and a hand to his face. “Please get him to take a nap? He's been getting rather fussy about midday.”

“Alright, alright,” Corin desists. “Is there anything else I can do to help out?”

The other man’s head shakes. “No. But...thank you, Corin. I’ll...come get you when we’re ready to land.”

The ex-trooper nods, conceding, “I expect you to,” his throat tenses, and he swallows hard, “Din.”

He notices the way the Mandalorian pauses after his name is said but doesn’t let himself linger. As he makes his way down the ladder, he keeps his eyes downturned, hoping he came across as though using Din’s name was a normal, ordinary occurrence. He'd only used it one or two other times since that first night.

The kid yawns wide as they descend the ladder once more; the force of it leaves one eye all squinty and his ears lopsided. Corin chuckles as he moves to the kid’s sleeping quarters and the kid nuzzles his tiny face into his neck for warmth. The ship begins to rumble as he goes to set him down on his bed, but the kid reaches his arms out with a coo and a small frown as soon as his feet touch his blankets. A soft sigh escapes Corin as he hops on the bed himself, laying carefully on the flat bedding. 

The Child crawls up close to him, nestling into the nook of his arm. Corin’s staring up at the ceiling as he feels the ship lift up off the ground. He smiles softly as tiny snores eventually escape into the small space. His eyelids begin to feel heavy as he lets his thoughts wander, eventually getting to that moment on the beach. 

It would likely be forever ingrained into his mind, and he finds that he wants it to stay that way.

The Mandalorian’s sure and steady hands had written a gift into the sand that night, and Corin recalls the way Din paused between each letter, how the sand felt between his fingers as he pushed the letters away and committed to keeping them forever in his mind.

_ Din _ .

He presses his fingers against his own dry lips and draws them down over his chin. He lets his eyes fall shut to the sounds of the ship’s engines.

Drifting to sleep, he thinks of palms against day’s old stubble.

\--

He feels gentle, tentative touches across his shoulder blades and he rolls his head back, his eyes still closed. The touch blossoms across his body, warm and inviting. Fire pops and crackles from the depths of his belly, and an agreeable flame takes over his skin. His body feels like it’s floating through a warm, never-ending darkness, and he’s never felt more at bliss. It feels like  _ home _ ; everything he’s never had to hold, a feeling he had been withheld in his childhood--now it’s wrapped around him, keeping him safe. 

Corin’s senses are overwhelmed with earthly sensations all at once; saltwater waves brushing his toes and misty wind coating his hair finely with salt. Fire snaps as the little one giggles; the system’s star draws out more of his freckles with its heat throughout the few days they stay, its warmth caressing him and reflecting right off again. The rich scent of Mandalorian spices makes his nose itch and his eyes water just a little. The memory almost makes him sneeze before it fizzles away into nothingness.

He feels the drag of sand against his calloused hands. It shifts from coarse and damp as it falls between his fingers, to soft and light as he drags his hands over it. His hands sweep up through the rough grains before the texture changes again; his fingers recognize stubble and a soft curl of hair against his knuckles.

His eyes open with a start to be greeted by total darkness. A pit in his stomach swells open and he’s  _ plummeting  _ hard through empty space. The fleeting sensations escape his hands and he  _ misses  _ them intensely, immediately. Tears overwhelm him and overflow before he can stop them. Hands that are not his own cover his eyes with a gentle touch.

“ _ Corin _ ,”

His heart fills with warmth as the voice, soft and rich, reaches his ears.

“ _ I  _ do  _ trust you. _ ”

A shuddering breath escapes him and his tears dissipate into nothingness before they no longer flow at all. Corin tentatively raises his fingers to his face, laying them on top of the warm hands that cover his eyes. They feel so solid, too good to be real.

“ _ Just...feel _ .” 

He does.

Corin melts into the steady hold and his plummeting descent slows to a halt and he’s no longer falling, but  _ floating  _ once more. His chest feels full and the trust he feels for these hands is absolute. It is a trust so strong that he doesn’t doubt for a moment that it holds him safely. A trust so complete and  _ there  _ that he--

\--shoots awake from the small bed with a sharp gasp, sweat slicking his hair against his forehead. His eyes refocus in the darkness of the room, a light pressure against his side perplexing him before he remembers where he is. 

He begins to relax back into the lazy warmth of sleep as his gasping breaths slow into a more regular rhythm, but his gut tenses again when the entirety of the dream comes back to him in a rush. Corin’s stomach churns as his thoughts swim around before sinking with an abrupt realization. 

Corin's pretty sure he knows now what the swooping sensation in his gut means every time he sees Din, with or without the kid. The way his heart soars when Din comes back from a job safe and sound. Why his chest aches and his heart stutters. Why a simple touch makes his knees weak.

The Empire didn't discourage emotional attachments necessarily, so long as they were for the Empire itself, or their own squad or platoon. Attachment to another individual, though? Definitely discouraged. Actively discouraged even, with threats of being placed on different sides of the galaxy or decommissioned altogether with the business end of a blaster.

But Corin hadn't been stolen away as a child and raised as a soldier. Yes, he was forced into it by his father and uncle. But he had had a childhood, for the most part. Sort of. He remembers the tales his mother used to tell him at night as she tucked him in for sleep. About how she met his father, about mythical heroes and daring adventures and--

And falling in lo--.

Corin buries his face in his hands and groans.

"Cooorr?" The child next to him is opening his eyes sleepily and he coos up at him curiously at being woken up. Corin looks between his fingers and gives the kid a weak smile. He really is too cute when he first wakes up, all blinking eyes and crooked ears.

“I,” Corin starts. Stops. Shakes his head while looking at the kid, his stomach dropping. “I’m not…” He just feels for Din the way he felt about his squad, right?  _ We’re brothers in arms! That’s all,  _ he thinks, conveniently overlooking the fact that he never felt butterflies in his stomach when CT-179 touched him, that the sound of CT-1283’s voice without his helmet never left him feeling awkward and warm. 

It’s definitely the same feeling.

It has to be.

He couldn’t be…he can’t...

He inhales deeply as he pushes sweat-slick hair away from his forehead and lets out a shaky breath. He looks down at the Child with watery eyes. A weak smile tugs at his lips as he presses his forehead against the kid’s. Little fingers touch his cheeks and he feels something he can barely describe, a  _ glow,  _ and Corin laughs. 

“I’m...I’m not hurt, I promise. Just...thinking really hard. Hard enough that it’s making me look silly. Right?”

He gets a giggle in response, but the hands stay. Corin parts his forehead from the kid's and rubs his nose against his. Large ears perk up immediately at the new sensation, his eyes big and bewildered.

“Ooh?” The Child repeats what he had done, and Corin chuckles as he does it right back, “Uhhhh!”

When he tries to do it a third time, Corin stops him. He receives a pout in response and he tries to contain his laughter. “You like that, huh?”

He gets an eager nod back and a nose against his cheek that is rubbed right in, giggles echoing in the space. “Alright, alright! You want a snack, hm?”

The Child visibly thinks about it, his forehead scrunching and eyes narrowed in thought, before relenting and giving him a nod in response, hands reaching out. “Mee!”

Playfully rolling his eyes, Corin picks him up and opens the door to the space, light making the both of them squint. The light gets blocked off rather suddenly, allowing their vision to readjust. Corin’s heart is thundering in his chest as he looks up at Din, who’s staring at the both of them as his hand draws back from the access panel.

Corin flushes as he stares right back at him like a Jawa caught in rubble, rubbing his neck as the kid reaches out for Din with a grabbing motion. His mind races as he once again recalls his dream. He fights his emotions back, working to seem like his world hadn't just shifted over the course of however long they’d been asleep. “We slept for a while, and I was just showing him, uh, nose rubs.”

Din takes a hold of the Child, who places his hands on his helmet. “Nose...rubs?”

“Uh. Yeah...it’s, um.” He makes a few hand gestures before faltering, tongue against his upper lip. “It’s...nose rubs. You...rub your noses together.”

“Rub your noses together.”

“Y-yes.”

There’s a hungry pause between them before the Child squeals, his legs kicking out defiantly at Din’s arms, and Corin starts to stand up. “Oh, right, I promised to get him a snack.”

Din backs up quick as Corin gets up and off of the sleeping area. He rubs his eyes open and attempts to wake up properly as he walks over to the kitchenette. He manages to find some well-preserved frog-leg jerky they had made and pulls it out onto the counter. Looking over at Din, he sees the kid wiggle in his arms intensely; Corin chokes on laughter at the sight. He walks over to hand a leg to the Child before Din is forced to set him down. Once he has the treat is in hand the kid settles in Din’s grip, contently gumming on it.

“Anyways,” Corin brushes a hand through his hair, a huff escaping him, “So, how far off are we from the planet?”

Din’s quiet for a moment as he watches the kid, but he says, “We’re in orbit.”

The ex-trooper blinks in confusion at that. He hadn’t been asleep that long, had he? “How long have we been asleep?” he asks.

“Several hours.”

“Oh,” Corin pauses, cocking his head. “I thought you had said that it would be longer than that…”

“I said it would take a while. I didn’t say how long a while would be.”

“ _ Din _ ,” he says in astonishment. His breath wavers slightly when he realizes he’s used Din’s name again, this time unintentionally. He purses his lips and tries valiantly to once again come across as though saying Din’s name was commonplace, rather than it being the gift Corin felt it was. “Why didn’t you say so?”

Din gestures his head up towards the cockpit, voice terse, “Go see for yourself.”

With a squint at that response, Corin moves over to the ladder and climbs up with the Mandalorian following suit. He looks back at him one last time before looking out the window. His eyes widen comically when all he can see is  _ snow,  _ as far as the planet’s edges.

He spins around, pointing directly at the view behind him, “What is that?”

The helmet looks at him almost mockingly, “I hope you remember what snow looks like.”

Corin sputters, waving his hands, “You never said anything about a...a snow planet!”

A light shrug is all he gets in return. “It just happens to be wintertime here.”

He points at Din directly, “This was intentional, wasn’t it?”

There’s a pause for a few beats before the bounty hunter ignores his question, “This is the planet Cavao. I picked up a transmission about an item retrieval, and figured it was simple enough of a job that we could handle it fairly easily. It’s also sufficiently populated that we can pick up supplies after the job.”

“Nuh-uh. You’re not getting out of this.” Corin squints at him. “Why a snow planet? We never stop at snow planets.”

“It’s not a snow planet.” Din sets the Child down in his booster seat securely before sitting down in the pilot chair. Corin plops down in the seat behind him, still silently sputtering from his response. 

Corin recognizes a fight already lost, though, and he stares at the back of the Beskar helmet, a warm feeling spreading throughout his chest as he murmurs, “Thank you, Din.”

He doesn’t get a response back, but he’s sure Din heard exactly what he said as he leans back in his seat.

Din begins the descent to the planet’s surface before Corin recalls what he had said about the item retrieval. His eyes start to widen for the second time that day. 

“ _ Wait!  _ You said  _ we! _ ”

\--

Inhaling the ice-cold air puts a nostalgic ache in his chest. Flecks of snow hit the skin of his face as his eyes fall shut when a gust of wind whips at him. The warm air exhaling from his lips is visible and curls up in big clouds. He reaches down to crush soft snow between his fingers, a smile stretching across his face. Corin hadn’t realized how much he missed the snow until this moment.

“Corin!”

He freezes when his name is yelled.

“Get  _ out  _ of the frigid air! You don’t have any of your gear on! Are you  _ insane  _ ?” Din hisses audibly, a well-bundled up Child in his arms.

Corin groans and throws his head back, the bridge of his nose scrunching before he waves his hands out at him, “Come on! This is the perfect weather for a walk.”

He can feel disbelief at the comment, and Corin deflates with a pout before walking back up the ramp to grab his coat off of a crate.

He’s stopped by a gloved hand on his arm. “Wait.” 

Corin stops maneuvering his coat and takes the  _ birikad  _ when it’s handed to him.

“Would you mind taking him? I’ve got to meet the client alone. Perhaps you could find us some lodging while I do that?”

Corin opens his mouth to protest Din going alone -- the last time still fresh on his mind -- before sighing, taking the  _ birikad  _ . He’d gotten pretty good at putting it on during their time on Giawei, and the Child has learned to be patient while being shoved inside. It’s a little trickier to do with the Child bundled up to his ears in fur, but they eventually manage, even when the Child sneezes a few times in the process from the fur tickling his nose.

Hesitantly, his voice soft as he puts on his coat, he clarifies with Din, “We’re still doing this as a ‘ _ we  _ ’ though, right?”

All he can hear for a moment is the wind hitting the Razor Crest as he pulls on some winter gloves, but the Mandalorian nods. “We  _ are  _ doing this together. It’s just simpler if I meet the client alone while you find lodging. I’ll show you where I’m going when we get there, okay?”

“Okay,” Corin checks his boot to be sure that his knife is well-secured before moving fur out of the kid’s face so he would stop chewing on it. “I think we’re ready to go. Lodging, job, and supplies. That’s easy, we can manage that.”

They share a look before Corin makes a face and looks around, “Any wood around here?”

Din’s head tilts, “Why do you need wood?”

“Uh,” Corin blinks as he tries to think of an answer for that, “Chasing away bad luck?”

Before Din can get in another response, the former trooper takes off down the ramp to show the kid what the snow was like, leaving Din behind. The kid’s green ears flick up and down as snowflakes hit them, and his big eyes look up at the sky in trepidation. 

“Remember the water we played in on Giawei?” Corin gets an apprehensive coo in response, so he picks up a handful of snow for the Child to touch. “Well, when it gets  _ really  _ cold, this happens. Sometimes it turns to solid ice, but this hasn’t gotten there yet. You can even build stuff with this.”

Small hands press into the pile that he had grabbed for him, confusion evident in the way his brows crunch together when the snow crumbles out of his grasp. “I’ll show you how to play in snow later, when we get the time. It’s not always bad,” Corin promises. 

Din catches up with them after locking the ship down, his hands clasped together below his cuirass, “We’ll reach town shortly; I’ll talk to the client, you find lodging. When we meet back up, we’ll figure out where to go from there, okay?”

Corin nods as his feet imprint into thick snow and the town in question starts to gain detail through the fog. “That works for me. How about you, kid?”

Small hands raise up as the kid is letting out a little cheer, and they continue their trek. It doesn't take too long. Corin had expected the town to be relatively small, but he finds himself a bit surprised. It’s not so much a small town as it is widespread. It’s still bright out despite the haze lingering low to the ground. Corin counts this as good luck, as he notices the town lacked proper lighting outside of the buildings; the buildings themselves are worn down with age and dusted with snow. The only people lingering outside are bundled up to their faces to avoid the windchill. 

The buildings don’t quite match up against each other, as if individual families had all moved in at different times with their own unique materials. He wonders if there were reasons for the lack of similar architecture, if the planet didn’t provide enough viable resources for construction. There’s one building that stands out to him on the edge of town, where the first and second stories don’t match up whatsoever. He wonders briefly how it’s still standing against the test of time and the weight of the snow bearing down on the roof. 

It has an enormous fenced-in area and he catches sight of--

Well. Corin isn’t quite sure what he’s looking at. They’re huge, the size of a small bear if he’s generous, and their heads reach above the makeshift fences. He spies hues of blue, purple, and green and their skin seems smooth as it shines dimly under the light of the distant sun.

They look like squids. Squids with legs.

Only when there’s a tug on his arm does Corin realize that he’s stopped moving to stare at the creatures this world provided. He can’t recall the last time he’d met a creature that caused him to react like this. 

Din looks at him, hand moving down to linger against his elbow, “Lodging, remember?”

“Right, sorry. Have you ever seen anything like those before?” He asks, tone curious as he starts walking with the Mandalorian again. Din lets go of his elbow and he immediately misses the touch of his hand, even if it was through layers of clothing.

“Don’t think I have. I’d remember, they’re...kind of  _ strange _ .”

“I don’t know,” Corin looks back one last time as an elderly Twi’lek comes out into the fenced area to tend to them, “They’re kinda cute.”

Din stops him in his tracks with a thrown out hand after a few more mismatched buildings. He gestures subtly at the crowded bar in their line of sight. “Those are the coordinates they wanted to meet at.” There’s a worn-down sign on top of the bar that veers dangerously towards dangling off, but it reads in broken Basic. 

Corin takes note of each visible entrance and exit in his line of sight. “Then that’s my cue. I’ll see what lodging I can find in this area.” He pauses, lowering his voice as he chews on the inside of his cheek, hoping he isn’t about to cross a line. “Din...be safe, okay?”

The Mandalorian’s nod is curt in response. Corin notes the way he rubs at his wrist as he turns away, the snow crunching beneath his feet. He watches him walk to the building and disappear through the doorway. The ex-trooper stays put for a few beats, tongue sticking out against his upper lip, wary eyes searching for possible threats. 

The Child coos and he releases a sigh that he was holding in. “Guess it’s just you and me now.”

With broken Basic being on most of the signs, he finds himself getting around well enough without a local’s assistance. His luck falls short inside of one of the lodges, though. He figures out quickly enough that he’s being taken advantage of, his poor attempts at any of the xenolanguages he vaguely knows making him seem like an easy target.

They don’t have the funds to go overboard on what they don’t necessarily need; they had discussed lodging on their way down and ultimately agreed they needed to find something when they realized their ship heater was malfunctioning. They decided that if Corin was unable to find somewhere they could stay under a certain amount, they would make due and purchase extra blankets instead and stay on the ship.

The prices he’s being quoted are unusually high compared to what he can make out on the board behind the alien; at first, he wasn’t entirely sure if the prices listed were for lodging or food or supplies, but he catches on to what is happening when a few of the patrons began to chortle at his expense.

Corin squints, “Lodging isn’t as much as you’re quoting me, is it?”

Four arms raise up in a shrug, a mocking third eye blinking at him, “Is it?”

Stifled laughter resounds once more behind him and he bites the tip of his tongue before grudgingly making an offer, “I can work for lodging.”

The hands wave at him in disinterest and the alien spits at the ground, “Bah! Useless.” All three of his eyes zero in on him, making Corin’s gut settle uneasily. “Take green thing for one room. Fair offer.”

“Green thing?” His hands curl into fists as his voice wavers in irritation.

“Yes! Little mongrel, ugly thing!” The alien guffaws as if his jab about the Child was a hilarious joke.

Corin’s not thinking very hard when he lunges forward and socks the alien right in the third eye with no hesitation, patrons jeering him to keep going. He leaves before the situation can grow out of hand, stomping out of the building as he fumes. 

His knuckles feel numb as he hisses out, “ _ Kriff! _ ”

Corin hears a shout and a slam behind him as the door swings shut, cutting off the angry voice of the three-eyed man and his still laughing patrons. A coo reaches his ears and he finds himself sighing again as he looks down at the kid. 

“Don’t tell Din that just happened, okay?” he murmurs. Little hands clap together excitedly and Corin can feel the tension leave him as he lets out a small laugh and flexes his fingers out to try and brush the pain off, “Definitely don’t tell your dad you like watching me hit mean people. He’d be disappointed in the both of us.”

He gets a serious nod in response before the kid points in a direction. Corin looks to see that he’s pointing at one of the strange creatures from before. 

As a local is passing by him, he waves high to get their attention, “Hello, do you speak Basic?” 

Corin gets a chirp in response, which gives him pause before the alien clears their voice, “Oh, sorry! Yes, very little.”

He nods in understanding before pointing in the direction of the creatures and keeps his words simple, “Do you know what those are?”

“Oh!” They nod quickly, “Yes, yes! Sog.”

Corin takes a moment to comprehend the statement but gets nothing. “Sog?” he questions.

The alien chirps, scratching their beak. “Sog!”

“Huh.” He’s quiet for a few beats before he bites down on his tongue and releases, saying weakly, “What does... _ sog  _ mean?”

Another chirp. “Squid dogs! Sogs, shorter.”

He makes a strangled noise over how simple the explanation is. “T-thank you for your help.”

A final chirp is given when he waves goodbye, and he looks down at the kid before repeating, “Sog. Did you see that coming?”

A giggle reaches his ears and he smiles back as he walks up to the fenced-in area. Some of the creatures come up close to the fence, heads reaching over old creaking wood beams. He carefully angles the kid away from them after one gets a good lick in, leaving the kid’s hair standing tall and his eyes wide with a mixture of awe and disgust. Corin chokes on his saliva when that happens, but the Child glares at him for laughing at his misfortune.

“They don’t bite.”

Corin jerks his head up with he hears Basic clear as day, seeing the elderly Twi’lek from earlier. She wields an intricate wooden cane in one hand like it could become a weapon in a moment’s notice, approaching him cautiously before she places a solid hand on her creature to soothe it.

“You’re not from here. Wanderer or settler?”

He blinks at the bluntness of the question before he answers, “Wanderer, I guess. We’re here for a job.”

Her eyes start to move over him from top to bottom, regarding him. She gives a curt nod. “The other wanderer who stayed further in town." It's a statement rather than an inquiry and she follows it quickly with a brisk, "Name?”

The question is shot out unexpectedly and his spine straightens at the way it sounds like an order. “C-corin. Corin Valentis,” he answers automatically.

“Hmph. Sound like a soldier still. Work on that. I’m Susdavi. And stop giving your last name out, yeah? Unless you’re a crusader or, I don’t know, Han Solo.”

Corin nearly chokes again, his mind racing to make sense of her brisk words and follows her from the other side of the fence. “H-how could you tell?” he asks warily.

Susdavi cocks her head at him, her eyes sweeping over him once more. “You dressed appropriately. Your Mandalorian, not so much. Wanderers take one look at the snow here and think, oh it’s not too cold. You dressed for work.”

He swallows thickly, trying to ignore both the way his heart thudded at the words  _ ‘your Mandalorian’  _ and the implication that she can read his past on him so easily. 

She sighs before waving at him. “ _ Kunta!  _ Stop worrying. I’m a  _ Runan _ , not an Imperial bitch.”

Corin’s sure it’s obvious he doesn’t know the language well when she rolls her eyes and gestures for him to forget about it. “Here for job, yeah? Find lodging? Or did the  _ Chi’kan  _ try to swindle you?”

He mouths the word before realizing she meant the alien from before. “Oh, yeah. He always like that?”

“Unfortunately. A damned disgrace is what that  _ boc’ara  _ is to Cavao.”

“I’m sorry you have to deal with his type. Is there anywhere else I could find lodging here? I think I’ve lost all welcome in his after what I did to his face.”

The Twi’lek nods as a smile twitches up onto her lips at the last bit. “Plenty. You just had bad luck walking into his right off the bat.”

His gut settles weirdly at that, heart stinging as he realizes that his luck always has and will affect him. The Child coos worriedly and Susdavi’s gaze zeros in on him. “Who is this?”

Corin finds his mouth opening and closing before he realizes he doesn’t  _ really  _ have an answer to that. A sigh escapes him. “We call him the kid. He’s kinda…" he pauses, unsure what to say. It feels weird to name him something.” Not for lack of trying on his part, of course.

She gives the Child a clinical look over before nodding. “If you won’t, I will.” She bends slightly to be eye level with him and pauses before giving a firm nod. “Alright.  _ Ryn  _ it is.” At Corin's blink of incomprehension, she rolls her eyes and elaborates. "It means child in my language. Flows off the tongue better."

He finds that he can’t argue against that logic, and the Child just acknowledges the nickname with a blink. She goes on as if it was nothing. “Now, if you go down a few buildings to the...the one with the half-moon door, they do not play games like the  _ boc’ara  _ you met.”

“Oh,” He looks in the direction she is pointing and nods. “Thank you. Oh, uh. Wait. I was wondering, why do you have so many sogs?”

Susdavi grins, jesting, “Why not? No, no. We don’t have much in the way of traveling during winter, but these animals can pull several tonnes on a sled as necessary. Makes brutal travel easier to push through.”

He takes her words into consideration as he realizes they’ll most likely need transportation to wherever the job is going to take them. “How much does it cost for the service? We might need it.”

She considers his words lightly before saying, “Come back tomorrow when you’ve got things figured out, yes? I’ll let you know then. You, the Mandalorian, and Ryn only, correct?”

He nods and she hums, “Okay. Tomorrow morning, I’ll have it ready for you.”

The Twi’lek begins to walk away and Corin blinks before calling out, “Hey, wait--you didn’t say how much!”

Her  _ tchin  _ waves back at him disparagingly as if he shouldn’t even worry about it, and he finds himself sighing in exasperation, throwing his hands up as she disappears into the doorway of the rickety building.

“Ree…” The Child manages to say, and Corin recognizes that he’s attempting to say the name that she had gifted him.

“ _ Ryn.  _ You like that?” He looks down as the kid regards his question seriously before nodding his head. Corin decides that he doesn’t mind it either if the kid seems to like it.

This Child’s ears flop around as Corin begins to move again, heading for the establishment she had pointed him towards. The half-circle provides way to another lodging establishment and it’s so different from the first that he pauses at the entrance. 

The quaint alien has a clear understanding of Basic and doesn’t multitask talking between him and other patrons. She also doesn’t poke fun at the Child strapped on him, and she lets the Child take one of the free candies she has out on the counter. They quickly come to a mutually beneficial arrangement where she’s happy to offer a room for lodging in return for his cleaning skills. He finds himself thanking her profusely, bowing his head down in thanks as he takes her hand before leaving the establishment to go wait for Din and tell him the good news. 

Corin goes out of the funnily shaped door and immediately spots the shine of Beskar in the slightly waning winter light. He almost calls out his name, but it lodges in his throat and he falters with a bite to his lower lip. He’s gotten used to thinking of the Mandalorian as  _ Din  _ now. He  _ likes  _ using his name, likes the way it rolls off his tongue. But the name was a gift; he’s not going to betray the man’s trust by carelessly using his name in such a public place.

He waves to get Din’s attention. 

“Mando! Over here.”

The Mandalorian’s steps falter before he comes to a halt. He looks around before finding Corin, and Corin notes the way he once again rubs at his wrist before moving again. Din is quiet as he approaches him, arms locked together around his middle in a tense and steadying grip. 

“What?”

Corin is taken aback at the mood change, hearing just how terse he is and he stumbles over his words, “Oh, uh. How did it go with the client?”

“The item retrieval is about some lost cargo from a wreck. The weather is too brutal to take the ship, so we’ll have to go by foot or find some transportation.”

He nods, hoping that lost ‘cargo’ isn’t code for something...alive, before directing a finger at the building behind them. “Okay. Well, I found lodging!”

Din only nods before stating, “We only need it for a night; we’ll head out early in the morning while the snowfall is calm.”

Corin makes a noise akin to a whine as they start walking together to go grab their things. “Seriously? That’s basically nothing! We could’ve just done prep on the ship and napped there!”

He gets a grunt back, “I don’t want the child to get too cold.”

Corin opens and closes his mouth, unsure what to say because yeah, okay, he didn't want the kid cold, either, but he  _ had  _ agreed to three hours of dishwashing a night in exchange for reduced lodging fare. He could have just paid outright  _ and  _ got three extra hours of sleep!

He ultimately bites down his words with a sigh, glaring at the back of the helmet in hopes that Din could feel it. They make their way back to the ship and Corin feels soaked up to his knees, which makes him want to haul out what minimal amount of cold-weather gear they have. Din’s hitting the control panel with a moderate amount of force that makes Corin wince -- a layer of ice has formed over the outside of the ship. 

The Razor Crest grants them entrance with a groan, the boarding ramp landing in the soft snow as ice falls around it. Corin waits a beat to make sure no shards come down after the first pass before he makes his way up. 

He finds their empty packs shoved under the main bed frame, setting them both on top of the mattress. He stares at them for a moment, perplexed. They really don't have a lot in the way of clothing that is good for layering. Din takes his own bag when he comes around, and Corin watches from his peripheral view to see what he’s adding to it.

His jaw clenches down as he watches the man shove in some light gear, his long-sleeved black shirts and dark pants, but nothing thermal to defend his skin in the weather. And while what he's packing is fine for a day in the cold, it's woefully inadequate for spending an extended period of time in it. He makes a noise, causing Din to stop in his tracks, so Corin immediately goes back to packing his own stuff away; he’s got plenty of thermal pieces he’s picked up from their time on other planets to stay prepared. 

Once that’s settled, he starts packing a makeshift first aid kit suited for the weather and any bad luck that comes their way. He hopes nothing does, but Corin knows how awful his luck can be most of the time. He packs up some minor medical supplies and their entire stash of emergency heat pods before grabbing some miscellaneous items for good measure. 

Following Din over to the dry and canned foods supply, he crouches down to the lower shelves with his tongue jutting out in consideration before taking several granola and protein bars, unsure of how long they’ll be out there. Out of the corner of his eye, Corin notices the way Din’s legs start to fight against tension. He stands up to see the man struggling to reach something that got knocked to the very back of one of the upper shelves.

“Here, I got it.” Placing a gentle grip on Din’s shoulder as he leans up against the Mandalorian’s back, he’s able to stretch his arm out further to grab it with the few extra inches he has on him. 

He shows him the can, hand still resting on his shoulder. “Was this it?”

Din is quiet for long enough to almost cause Corin to worry. But then the man nods as he takes the can. “Thank you,” he says, voice gruff.

He returns the thanks with a small smile, patting his shoulder before grabbing a few more of the cans -- stolen Imperial rations, he notices -- for his own bag. He then digs through the worn crate in the supply storage to find more of the teal fabrics for the child to use as layers. 

While shuffling around, he finds the heat blanket he had provided the Mandalorian and Child the very first time they met. He rubs his fingers over the fabric in thought; they'd come a long way since then. Biting at his lower lip, he rolls the blanket up and tucks it with the Child's spare clothing before placing the whole bundle in his bag.

Corin grunts as he zips the bag up and it fights him back on it and he lifts it onto his shoulder, feeling the weight grounding him down. Din’s finished with his pack as well, and so with a final goodbye to the cold interiors of the Razor Crest, they start to head back out to the lodging.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> birikad - sling  
> kriff - fuck, basically  
> sog - squid dog. i'm serious  
> kunta - fuck  
> runan - exile, outcast  
> chi'kan - pervert, corrupted  
> boc'ara - idiot, dumber than a rock  
> ryn - not a true ryl word, but a mashup of the words for children of the goddess deriving from ry and rn  
> tchin - right headtail of the lekku


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A new update, as promised! And early, too!
> 
> Please heed the updated warnings and tags for this fic! We decided to go semi vague with the warning tags for now, but in case you need a more detailed content warning, we've added one to the very bottom of the end author's note.
> 
> We hope you enjoy this chapter! Chapter 3 will be posted next Friday, as originally scheduled!
> 
> ~Fox
> 
> \--
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy the additional character and the sogs as much as Fox and I enjoyed coming up with them! <3
> 
> \- Nova

The next morning comes sooner than Corin likes. He wakes up with a start on the edge of the bed, the Child whining beside him from being woken up. The mattress feels akin to a rock beneath him and he groans as an aching stiffness begins to settle in his muscles. He pinches the bridge of his nose, causing the break in his cartilage to throb dully under his touch. 

Corin licks at his dry lips in a vain attempt to wet them as he sits up, rubbing his neck to work the kinks out. He yawns wide, his eyes squeezing shut, hand pressing into his chest. His hands still feel dry and coarse from the dish soap he used when washing the dishes the night before; he can feel where it has caused his knuckles to start cracking.

Din is across the small room, reassessing what they brought with them from the ship. 

Corin scratches his beard scruff gently before picking the kid up and moving him onto the pillow he had used that night. It isn’t a good pillow, but it would provide better support than the lump of a mattress. After the kid nestles into it, Corin stands up to walk over to where Din is. 

Briefly, he touches Din on his arm as he walks passed to get to a pitcher of water on the room's small table. He pours a glass and only gets a few swallows down when Din states, “We’ll have to find transportation this morning. Walking is out of the question; the innkeeper mentioned something about a snowstorm being a few days out from the town.”

“Oh,” Corin rubs his eyes before blinking wide in an attempt to wake up further past the fog he is currently in. He takes another gulp of water. “Actually, uh. I found some while you were meeting the client. Vehicles don’t do well in the weather here, so they use those creatures we’ve been seeing around the town." He snaps his fingers, trying to recall what they were; his sleep-addled brain eventually gives him the name. "Sogs, is what they’re called.”

Din pauses his rummaging, parroting back the word. “Sogs.”

“Yeah. Sogs is short for squid dogs as far as I was told yesterday.”

He’s silent for a few more beats before he resumes his task, “Then I guess we’ll have to find someone who will lend us some...sogs.”

“Got that too. I met her when I was between lodges, her name is Susdavi. She’s the only person who raises them in this area.”

Corin gets this itch as if he’s being stared at, so he quickly adds, “She’s a Twi’lek who owns that fenced-in area with the crooked house. She’s actually the one who told me about the lodging.”

Din nods curtly at that and the former snowtrooper assumes the conversation is done until he hears Din mutter, almost to himself as his moves halt again while he's in thought, “Why aren’t they just called squid dogs? It’s not like that’s a long name. How much do you have to hate an animal to call it a  _ sog _ ?”

Corin nearly chokes on his last swallow of water at the question, not at all expecting that to come out of Din’s mouth. He lets out a barking laugh. Din continues to grumble about the choice in naming the species and Corin can't help but smile as they finish getting ready to leave.

\--

They head out of the lodge when the sky outside is still pitch black. The snow has come to an eerie stop and it’s dead quiet, as if the entire world had paused. Corin breathes in the icy air as the Child continues to sleep cozily in his  _ birikad _ , bundled as much as possible against the chill.

The lights in the town are dimly lit to show the path, some of the older lights faintly flickering from being worn and abused. Reaching the house on the edge of town is a bit of a treacherous task due to the low light and the build-up of ice and snow, but upon getting there, he sees the Twi’lek awaiting their arrival. She’s not as bundled up as Corin and the Child, but she’s still more well-suited to the weather than Din currently is. She stands up from her chair on the porch when she sees them approach, undoing the latch to the gate as he offers a wave in greeting.

Her  _ tchin  _ waves back in response, so he gestures to the man next to him, “Susdavi, this is Mando. Mando, Susdavi.”

He can feel Din stiffen from how close they’re walking together, but he speaks as they come to a halt outside of the gateway, his tone more monotone than usual, “ _ Kei’nata tun.  _ ” He bows his head slightly.

Susdavi considers him with a critical gaze and a once over that reminds him of the one she had given him when they’d met. She gestures them to come inside and speaks at Corin, “Your man isn’t so bad after all.”

Din seems to relax at her words, but Corin takes a second to process what she said as a flush rises to his cheeks, “He—what— _ Susdavi! _ ”

She walks back up to her porch before he can retort back any further, Din following right behind her. He starts to follow when he feels a tug on his pant leg and he looks down to see one of the smaller sogs pulling on him with nub teeth, its tiny, speckled tail wagging behind it. He notices several even smaller pups, but they’re unable to approach from inside their playpen on the porch. 

Corin crouches down and only hesitates for a moment before placing a hand on its head. It’s smooth and slippery under his fingers and not slimy like he had assumed. He feels the creature purr as he rubs under their light blue chin, unaware of the one coming up beside him. He can distinctly hear Susdavi and Din, but mostly Susdavi, heatedly discussing gear for the job when a wide, flat tongue swipes up against his cheek. Corin groans immediately, looking at the culprit that, in turn, is looking down at him. Its eyes are large and black in contrast to its lavender skin. Doleful. 

He rolls his eyes and pats at its chest, receiving more purrs in response. When he’d first seen them, he wouldn’t have thought them to be akin to...loth-cats. 

The smaller of the two sogs begins to sniff at the Child’s head and he makes a noise, feeling his hair raise from the inhale. He squeals when the little one licks across his cheek and head and causes the fuzz on top to raise straight up, glistening with saliva.

Corin starts to laugh openly at the sight, not caring how early it is, tension releasing from his shoulders. Biting back his laughter, he attempts to fix the kid’s hair and fails to keep his mirth at bay at the Child’s disgusted and awed expression directed at the sog after having this happen to him for a  _ second  _ time. He looks over towards Din to find that he’s being stared at by both him and Susdavi. The latter’s gaze drifts between Din and Corin in a way that makes him feel self-conscious. Exposed. 

He swallows and goes to turn back to watching the kid. His expression changes quickly from flushed and awkward to wide-eyed and startled when the larger sog lets out a bark before wrapping its tentacles around his head and messing up his hair. Corin pulls back with a yelp and the sog blows his tongue at him before changing its stance to a far more playful one, tail pointing straight up. Its tentacles flare before it barks once more. The pups scramble around, yipping and tumbling over each other. The Child coos and waves his hands in the air before looking up at Corin with big eyes. 

Corin huffs fondly and the Child giggles as he helps get him out of the  _ birikad  _ so he can interact with the creatures better. Once freed of his warm confines, the kid toddles over to one of the smaller sog pups, arms raised. The pup crouches, tail wagging, the short tentacles on its face flaring as it chirps. The Child lets out a squeal and wraps his arms around the neck of the sog pup and gets curious tentacles all over his face in return. 

Corin grins at the two of them before surreptitiously looking back in Din’s and Susdavi’s direction. They’ve stopped watching him, at least, and now Din is nodding to something Susdavi is telling him, her lekku gesturing alongside her hands. Corin finds himself sighing, figuring he should probably get up and see what was going on.

“Come on, kiddo,” he says, scooping the kid up from where he was patting at the side of one of the pups. He whines, wiggling to get back down and Corin adjusts his grip. “You can play later. We need to go help your dad right now.” The Child pouts, but stops squirming as Corin shifts him to the crook of his left arm. He pats the larger of the sog pups on the head as he moves passed it.

“So…what’s the plan?” he asks as he walks up. He places his hand at Din's lower back before turning to face Susdavi. Feeling him go still to the touch, he almost pulls away before the tension in Din’s back disappears. The dream comes flooding back to his memory and he struggles to keep his face still as he recalls the warm touch of steady hands.

He keeps his hand where it is as Susdavi speaks for the Mandalorian, “As I was telling your Mandalorian, I’ll be giving you two sleds, two sogs. The sogs don’t do well with being ridden, but their speed is remarkable. They are not like droids, though. Let them rest when you rest. Now, load your gear up, I’ll pick out the best two for your travels, yes?”

Din grunts in acknowledgment of the repeated information and Corin nods in agreement as well. They leave the porch to go grab their things by the gate, following her to the side of the house where she keeps her travel gear covered up. The Mandalorian hands his things over to him before moving over to help get the sleds out of the storage pile. Susdavi gestures for Corin to set their things down as she grabs something from the top of a stockpile.

“This,” she taps the lid of the sizable container, “This will last of one of the sogs three days. I will send you off with a few to keep them fed, but they tend to make it last longer by storing it in an internal pouch in the back of their mouths. It smells. I’d be smart and not open it in a confined space, yes?”

Corin’s nose wrinkles at the possibility of the horrible smell while she continues, “I also have a treat to help guide them outside of mushing. We call them jelly rinds. They love them, have some sort of...zing. Use it sparingly though, they find them addicting.”

“Got it. Normal food, and treats to avoid until I need them.”

She shrugs as she takes down several food containers for their travels and puts them up against their gear, “Yes, that is almost correct. Never give at night, they’ll stay up howling to nothing. Let me grab the sogs now.”

Susdavi takes the Child into her arms as she takes off to look for the creatures most suitable for the trek. The kid reaches out his little hands to touch each sog he gets close to. 

Corin watches Susdavi and the Child in-between checking to make sure Din is handling the sled retrieval alright. Susdavi comes back over to them, right as Din finishes grabbing the second sled, leading back over two sogs varying between dark green to light blue in color.

She hands the lead of the light blue one to Corin, gesturing to the creature with one of her lekku. “This is Loko. He knows his name, so use it. Loko is not my fastest steer, but he can handle the most weight. Since you’ll be carrying supplies, he will be best suited for your job.” Corin finds it a little unnerving to have to look up at the creature, its sheer size intimidating.

The animal purrs as Corin brushes his hand over its smooth skin and Susdavi moves on to hand the remaining lead to Din. “And for you, this is Uhri. She knows her name, too. Uhri just produced a small litter, but she has no attachment and is no longer producing nutrients for them. She is not my fastest either, but she’ll carry a load to rival Loko.”

From there, she shows them how to harness the sogs correctly to the sleds before assisting them in sorting out and checking their gear.

Susdavi considers the gear between Din and Corin with a frown before she points a judgemental finger in the Mandalorian’s face, “You carry no protective gear on you, do you?”

Din’s quiet for a few beats before shooting back, “You’re looking at it.”

“Bah!” Her hands fly up in frustration, lekku curling in sync at his answer, “Mandalorians...the lot of you…”

She heads up to a basket she keeps by the porch, opening it to dig through roughly before returning to them. She forcefully shoves a lump of black fabric into Din’s hands. “You take that with you and you wear it under that helmet of yours while you are out. And do not say anything; I do not want to hear it.”

Din looks at the item and grunts, but Corin is a little confused at what she had placed in his hands. He hums in understanding, though, as Din unfolds the fabric, revealing a hooded face mask. 

Susdavi then approaches him and he feels a wave of apprehension at the expression on her face.

“You know better than your man, I am sure, but be sure to wear these whenever you are out in the elements.” She reaches for his hands and places two more scraps of fabric in them. 

Corin blinks down at the face masks she’s placed in his hands. He runs his fingers over them, taking in the fine quality of the fabric and stitching. He looks up at Susdavi, a crooked smile on his face.

“Thank y-,” he says, touched. She waves him off with her  _ tchin _ .

“Don’t even finish that sentence. You know as well as I do that you don’t want to be caught neck-deep in the  _ szu’tak  _ of a storm that is coming.”

He squints at the one word he can’t quite make sense of, and she rolls her eyes before clarifying. “Shit. Neck deep in shit, Corin.”

Corin chokes at her bluntness before smiling wide. “You’re right. Most of my…” he trails off, eyes downturned as he thinks of his snowtrooper gear. “Most of it is trashed now. I’ve picked up what I could in the event we’d be on another planet during snowfall, but now that I am, I’m...still really unprepared, huh?”

“Bah,” Susdavi shrugs, “You’re better off than your Mandalorian by any means.” She passes him yet another face mask. ”Keep his spare with your things, just for good measure.”

He nods, definitely agreeing to that as he tucks it away safely on his person while determinedly ignoring the flare of warmth in his chest that grows each time she refers to Din as his. 

He _was_ not and _wouldn't_ _be_ his.

Heart sinking at the harsh reminder, he then unfolds one of the face masks she had given him and pulls it over his head. He adjusts it around his neck before pulling the top half up and over the bottom of his face. The band fits perfectly over the bridge of his nose, curving down over his cheekbones snuggly before curving up again to cover his ears completely. The bottom of the mask hugs his jaw and is long enough to cover his neck and tuck into the high collar of one of his thermal layers.

“This is perfect,” he says, amazed at how easy it is to breathe in. From the other side of the sled they are loading, he hears Din clear out his throat roughly. He looks over at him.

“You okay?”

“I’m fine. Uh, Susdavi, do you have any goggles Corin can borrow?”

Susdavi has an amused look on her face as she gestures at the pile of gear they still have to load up near her basket. “Should be a pair in there somewhere.”

Din shuffles through the gear for a moment before standing straight again, goggles in hand. He then moves to Corin before shoving the goggles at him. 

“You better wear these, too. The mask won’t be enough,” he says, voice gruff. 

Corin scrambles to get a hold on the goggles, clunky and ancient-looking, about to retort that he’s aware, thank you. But before he can get a word out Susdavi lets out a snort of laughter.

“What?” Corin asks.

She waves him off once again, amusement bright in her eyes. “Nothing. It is nothing. Let’s just get you loaded up and on your way.”

Corin looks at her, suspicious, before shrugging. He pulls the mask down as he slides the goggles strap around his neck and tucks the Child into his sling before getting back to loading up the sleds. 

Crouching down, he double-checks his bags one more time to make sure there wasn’t something glaringly obvious missing. The former snowtrooper steps on the back rail of the sled, pulling the lead close to himself to gauge how much he’ll need to pull for the sog to slow down. The Child coos, reaching out for the rope that is too far out of his reach. 

Corin feels an invisible tug on the fabric and he starts to huff before handing the lead to the kid rather than trying to reprimand him. The Twi'lek chuckles as little hands fail to keep a good grip on the line before tsking to herself.

“Wait here, I almost forgot.”

She steps back up the stairs to go inside of her home, and Din finishes up his check-through, gloved hands brushing together to get rid of snow. It’s a few beats before the elderly woman steps out again, and Corin’s brow furrows as he recognizes it to be another face mask. He starts to refuse the gift, but her expression is stern as she regards him.

Corin shuts his mouth and she approaches, unfolding the piece in front of the Child to reveal that it was indeed a face mask, but obvious slits had been made to make room for a set of large ears.

“It’s a rush job,” she admits, showing it off to Corin as the Child coos again. “I didn’t want little Ryn to be left out of all the fun, yeah?”

The little one gurgles, ears twitching as he figures out what he’s looking at before his ears go flat against his head. 

Susdavi clucks her tongue. "Hush, Ryn. It is to keep you warm." As the Child's ears relax just a little, she opens the hat up and helps ease it over his head, managing to poke his ears through without snagging them on anything.

His ears pop right up as soon as they’re freed from the thermal embrace. He flicks them back and forth before cooing when they aren't impeded by the fabric. Corin gently adjusts the fabric framing the kid's face and down his neck loosely, tucking the ends into his robe before looking up at Susdavi.

"Thank you," he says, voice sincere. 

This time, the elderly Twi'lek doesn't wave off his gratitude and instead meets his gaze steadily before saying, "You take care of these two, yes?"

Corin nods solemnly, fingers stroking along the child's ears. "Yes, ma'am."

"Good," she says, nodding decisively. "I believe you are ready to go now."

\--

The worst part about the first day isn't the cold and biting wind. It isn't readapting to the many layers he is wearing or even getting used to the weird wet-Wookie-and-fish smell of the sogs. 

No, the worst part is Din's sullen mood. Corin spends the first part of the morning trying to make conversation and is mostly met with silence. When he does respond to any of Corin's chatter, it's with curt words and a lackluster tone. It's not as though Din is a particularly talkative guy, but he would normally give a snort of amusement or make a snide comment back at  _ least. _

It's so off from his normal behavior that Corin starts to wonder if had done something wrong yesterday or earlier that morning. Had he crossed a line by arranging their transport with Susdavi without consulting him first? Did he find out about the guy he had punched? He rubs at his slightly smarting knuckles through his gloves while considering the last day cycle, trying to figure out where he went wrong. 

His stomach drops when he realizes how much  _ touching  _ he had been doing recently. He hadn’t even realized he was doing it! Is that why Din is upset with him? Could it have been all of Susdavi’s comments and looks, too? He clicks his tongue on the top of his mouth a few times, agitated. 

They're giving Uhri and Loko a break after an intense mush and Corin looks around between the grey-white sky, the white snow, and white snow-covered trees in the distance. He pouts thoughtfully as he also takes in the growing haze, slick expanses of iced-over bodies of water, and the clefts of ice creeping down the sides of far away snow-covered cliffs. 

The silence is moving from slightly awkward to unnerving now as he pats his legs mindlessly. 

“So.” The snow crunches beneath their boots as they walk and it only emphasizes the quiet around them. “What do you think they call the sogs when they’re, like, wet? Soggy?” 

Corin can feel the exasperation in Din’s silence and he swallows, ducking his head. Yeah, okay, that was bad. But he's  _ bored  _ and Din isn’t talking to him. He had  _ definitely  _ done  _ something  _ to piss Din off, though, that was certain. The Child, currently fit snugly against his chest rather than at his back as he had been earlier, coos softly and pats at him from within his warm cocoon of furs. 

He smiles crookedly down at the kid and then sighs. He kicks at the snow before looking up at the sky again, taking in how the sun is beginning to dip towards the horizon; he’s learned from past experience that night comes quickly this time of year on  _ any  _ planet. They should probably set up camp soon, but he’s hesitant to bring it up with Din at that moment.

Readjusting his face mask to sit higher up his nose, Corin considers their surroundings again, hoping to find somewhere that might provide shelter for the night. He spots the trees he had seen earlier and figures he’ll bring up setting up camp near them once they get closer.

The wind gusts over them, causing the sogs to shiver and shake their heads to rid their tentacled faces of the snow the wind had picked up. There’s a stillness to the air despite the wind, and it smells crisp and pure. Corin takes in the bellies of the clouds and realizes just how low they were now; they were going to get snow soon.

The Child whines, his face scrunching up in displeasure, ears pulled back tight to his head.

“Shhh, I know you’re cold. We’ll be setting up camp soon, I think,” Corin murmurs to the kid, running a gloved finger over the brim of the little face mask Susdavi had made.

“He’s probably hungry.”

Corin startles at the sound of Din’s voice, looking up to find the man had moved to walk closer to him. His head is tilted down towards the kid, who is looking up at him reproachfully.

“Anywhere here, in particular, you suggest we set up camp for the night?”

_ Oh, thank the Maker I didn’t have to be the one to bring it up,  _ Corin thinks, relieved. Outloud, he says, “Yeah. There’s a small copse of trees about a kilometer or so ahead. They should work fine tonight.” He gestures with his head in their direction. He can still see them, though the steadily increasing wind has started kicking up the last snow, causing the air to become hazy with the small flurries.

Din nods thoughtfully before moving away to hop up on the back of his sled. “Let’s get moving.” With that, he lets out a sharp whistle and flicks the reins. 

Corin scrambles to hop up on his own sled to follow. He holds on with one hand, his other arm curled protectively around the Child’s head to keep him from getting too buffeted by the cold air; he hadn’t had a chance to shift the  _ birikad  _ to his back. He chews at his chapped lips, a flicker of anger stirring in his chest.

It is one thing for Din to take his mood out on  _ him _ , but it is something entirely different when he starts taking it out on the kid, too.

By the time they make it to the trees a short time later, the flicker of anger has turned into a steady flame. 

“Coooor,” the Child murmurs, and Corin absently rubs at his back. He’s glaring at Din as they pull the sogs up under the trees.

They’ve barely had a chance to come to a complete stop before Corin is jumping from his sled and stalking towards Din, pulling his face mask down as he goes.

“What the kriff is wrong with you today?” The question comes out louder and sharper than he had intended it to, but he can’t bring himself to care.

Din looks up from the gear he had been about to start unloading, startled. 

Corin doesn’t let him answer. “Whatever I did to piss you off, I’m sorry. You can be mad at me all you want, but you do  _ not  _ get to take it out on the kid, too.” He grits his teeth, but he doesn’t back down. Softer, he says, “He didn’t do anything, Din.” Unable to keep looking at the icy glint of Beskar, he averts his gaze down to the Child, who is looking up at him with wide, dark eyes.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, either.”

Corin whips his head up, face incredulous.

“I must have done something!”

Din sighs and Corin watches, a little surprised, as his body releases whatever tension he had been holding all day. His shoulders relax, the curve of his spine softens. He shakes his head.

“You didn’t. I was just…” He lets out another sigh and looks away, one hand gripping at the opposite wrist.

The motion causes a few things in Corin's mind to slide into place. He mentally scrambles to think back over the last few days, this time trying to remember Din's reactions and body language rather than his own actions. The gruff, almost  _ awkward,  _ tone in his voice; the way he'd pause for a moment as though startled; his shift in mood from his usual exasperated fondness to being curt and silent; the way he had just relaxed completely. Each moment has one thing in common:

Din's name.

Or, in most cases, the  _ lack  _ of his name.

He had been using Din’s name somewhat regularly since learning it and then he had just  _ stopped _ . Corin blinks and it’s difficult to hold back from saying his name again right then, just to see the man’s reaction. He realizes that saying it gives him a warm feeling in his gut; he had no idea that just knowing the Mandalorian’s name would feel so intimate and would affect him so much. But it does. And knowing that Din is apparently just as affected by the use of his own name makes Corin want to say it even  _ more _ . 

He doesn’t know why Din keeps his name secret, if it’s by choice or something else, but he does know what it’s like to be able to use your name once more after going so long without. He knows what it’s like to all of a sudden be seen as a person again. As an individual. Din had given him that.

Corin decides then that he will make sure to use Din’s name more often when it’s just them. And even if Din was suddenly fine with his name being known by anyone, there’s a part of Corin that would want to keep the name selfishly tucked away as a secret just between the two of them. 

It’s a possessive thought, something Corin is unused to having, and he carefully ignores that part of him for right now; he’d examine it later. 

Maybe.

For now, he takes in Din’s body language, the way he’s turned slightly away, looking into the trees around them. He’s not entirely sure what to say, but he can’t just leave Din standing there, obviously uncomfortable.

“I...I think I get it, Din,” he says quietly, chewing on the inside of his cheek. Din turns his head to look at him, his helmet cocked slightly to the side. Corin’s sure he has a look of disbelief on his face under his helmet. “I’m sorry for yelling,” he offers. Din shakes his head slightly, once, before his shoulders drop even further as he sighs.

“Yeah, me too.”

Corin offers a tentative smile before pulling up his face mask once more. The Child lets out a questioning coo, looking up at Corin and then over at Din before back at Corin. 

Corin boops the kid on the nose with a gloved finger. “We’re good, don’t worry.” He glances up at Din as he says it and sees the man give a small nod before going back to contemplating the gear on his sled. 

Corin sighs quietly before going to his own sled to remove the needed gear to start setting up camp.

\--

Two more days into their travels, the snow has begun to feel like an endless stretch of white nothingness, even to Corin. The neverending strips of snow do bring up nostalgia from within him, though, and eventually, the landscape changes slightly until they see something jutting out of the cold drifts. It’s a small piece of wreckage, so they figure the rest must be nearby. Corin picks the hunk of metal up, turning it over in his hands before putting it with his things. They continue to ride further along and the pieces start to get bigger and more weighty as they follow it down the slope. 

There’s an obvious indent where the cargo ship had slid down the small ravine, the new snow not quite covering its tracks yet. With the larger snowstorm still on their tail, the bulk of the wreckage stands out even when frosted over. Corin pulls Loko to a slower pace once they get close enough, stepping off the back of his sled to regard the cargo ship. Most of it is in poor shape now with burn marks and melted areas where the fire from the crash had heated up the metal past melting point before fizzling out in the snow. 

There are cracks evident on the hull and he doesn’t think much of them as he approaches it. Din settles Uhri down with a hearty piece of jellyfish rind, which he breaks in half to share with Loko before meeting up with Corin and the Child to assess the damage. 

“The client doesn’t care about most of the cargo on here and said that if we find anything else that made it through the crash, it’s free for the taking. The crates in question are bronze in color, so keep your eye out for them.”

Corin nods in response, hands hovering over the ice-covered metal, but he abstains from touching it as he walks into the rubble. Corin is gentle as he moves broken ship parts and crates out of his way, picking up some untouched food canisters and placing them in the sling with the kid to put in the sled when they finish up. He crouches over as he rummages through an exposed crate to find mostly burnt up electrical fibers, taking out what was unscathed for Din to use for future projects. 

There is a mix-match assortment of textiles and clothes that made it out, hues ranging from cool browns to dark greens and textures varying across all of them. They aren't exactly unnecessary, he tells himself as he folds them up and tucks them behind the kid’s back to keep his hands free. 

Corin ducks down into the wreck itself, glancing around the shadowy area before flicking on the small light in his pack to get a better look. He can hear Din shoving scraps and empty crates around to maneuver a path out of the wreck. He looks around the mess before glancing up at the remaining walls and almost moves on. But the Child coos, ears perked up, intent. Corin pauses as he redirects the light towards the metal near the cracks.

_ Huh _ .

The cracks there don’t make sense. Burn marks surround most of the open wounds on the ship, but the scarring he’s staring at appears different than the rest. There's a chaotic order to the fractures here that isn't present among the others.

Almost like little bolts of lighting, spider webbing from the edges and stretching along the metal before fading into nothing.

“... _ Din?  _ ” He calls out, tone apprehensive. He feels as if they’ve just walked into something they really shouldn’t have.

A crash resounds in the small area and Corin startles; he turns around quick, head whipping about as he looks for the Mandalorian. 

“Din!”

He climbs over a tall pile of rubble easily, pulling down his face mask as he starts to call out Din's name again. 

Before he can open his mouth, a hand clamps over his wrist and pulls him down with a sharp, “ _ Shh!  _ ”

Corin grunts as he lands flat on his butt and glares at Din, biting down a retort for the hard pull. He stops, however, when he sees the reason they’re hiding. Slimy tendrils trail over the floor, shining bright with bioluminescence. He’d probably be awestruck from their beauty if they weren’t attached to a  _ huge  _ and--

_ Oh, great _ . 

Its body is amorphous and glistens, much like the hide of the sogs, but it’s semi-transparent and it  _ oozes  _ over the side of a bronze-colored crate, fighting to break it open with its maw. Its teeth are razor-thin and long and its oral arms try to pry away at the one thing that has refused to give it access. The other two crates are behind the creature, stacked haphazardly against each other.

“I’m going to try and get it off of the crate without hurting it," Din says as he gets up, and at first Corin just nods along at the plan before he remembers the intricate lightning scars scored against the metal. 

His gasp is sharp as he jumps up at the realization, intending to warn Din. But before he can say anything, Din places his hand on the sheet metal near the animal. It moves slowly and with a lazy flick of its oral arm, it slaps the end against the wall. There is no way Din could react quick enough to stop the current that arcs through the metal before hitting him. The man jerks away as pain shoots through him and Corin winces in sympathy, heart in his throat.

The creature doesn’t seem too worried about them being there, but Corin still takes caution with where he steps as he moves towards the Mandalorian. 

“Hey,” He crouches near where he is sitting on the ground, shaking his arm out, “You alright?”

Din rolls his shoulder back and forth to fight the sensation, watching with a thoughtful expression. “No, yeah. I’ve felt worse. Jawa’s herding rods sting like a  _ shabuir _ .” He shakes his hand again before flexing his fingers. 

Corin raises an eyebrow at Din having been on the business end of a Jawa prod, almost wanting to ask when he remembers it is not the best time for that, before regarding the creature still trying to bite away at one of the crates they need. He hums. “Approaching it is obviously a dumb plan, especially now that we know it can shock you. Maybe it’s hungry? We could try to lure it away with some food?”

Din hums as he gets back up to his feet, still shaking his hand out. Corin places a hand at his elbow in case the shock had messed with him more than they thought.

“Susdavi sent us along with plenty of jelly rinds for the sogs,” Din says, moving out of the wrecked cargo ship. “We could probably use some of it.”

Corin nods, following behind Din. “I can wave it around, get its attention and then draw it out while you go in and get the crates.”

Din’s already shaking his head before Corin finishes his sentence. “No. You have the Child with you. I’ll get its attention, you grab the crates.”

Rolling his eyes, Corin huffs, “Fine. Just stay away from its tendrils.”

Din raises his hand in acknowledgment before making his way to his sled and digging for the jelly rinds. He grabs two of the largest pieces and makes his way back to the ship, pausing as he comes abreast to Corin. 

“As soon as it’s moved out, go in and grab the crates. Who knows how long this will distract it.”

Corin nods, shifting the  _ birikad  _ around so that the kid rested against his back rather than his front so he could pick up the crates easier. 

“Don’t,” the Mandalorian says, pointing at Corin, “go in before it comes out.” 

“I won’t! As long as you don’t do anything stupid.”

They stare at each other for a moment, the air between them charged with  _ something  _ Corin isn’t yet ready to name before Din reaches up to grasp at the back of Corin’s neck. Corin goes very still and doesn’t resist when Din tugs him forward until his forehead is pressed against the cold metal of his helmet. He closes his eyes before drawing in a shaky breath. 

Biting his lower lip, he tentatively mirrors Din’s hand with his own; he can feel the edge of the high collar of Din’s shirt under his thumb. He leans into the contact and can hear the way Din’s breath stutters out of him when he does. Din slides his hand down from Corin's neck to his chest, his thumb near his collarbone. Another second passes before Din pulls away entirely, his fingers trailing over Corin's shoulder as he moves past him without another word. 

Corin turns to watch him enter the ship, arms wrapped around his middle. The Child on his back coos softly and Corin can feel him tap at his shoulders. He lets out a long, shaking breath. 

"I'm fine, kid," he mutters, even as he stares apprehensively at the hole in the side of the ship Din passed through.

A moment later, he hears a loud clatter and a thud, like something falling, and then Din shouting, " _ Kriff!"  _

Corin darts forward, itching to help Din, but mindful of the order to stay out of the wreck until the creature is out. He slides up alongside the largest of the openings and is about to look through when Din dashes out. Immediately following him is the creature, its body more gelatinous than Corin had expected it to be. It propels itself along the ground with its long tentacle-like legs, giving a sharp keening sound as it does. 

Din is concentrating hard on getting it out of the mess, so Corin anxiously stays where he is until the entirety of the creature’s limbs have passed through the wreck. The moment none of them are touching the metal, he rushes through the space to get to the cargo. He quickly finds the bronze crate the creature had been gnawing on earlier and briefly catches sight of thin scratches on the corners and top. 

The other two crates are nearby, so Corin focuses on the damaged one. Estimating its weight with a critical eye, he crouches before wrapping his arms around it, straightening with a slight stumble. It’s heavy, and Corin knows he won’t be able to carry it the entire way back to the sled. He concentrates on moving it out of the way of most of the mess on the floor before setting it down on the ground again. He double-checks where Din and the creature are before he begins to push it across the floor and through a blast hole. 

He’s halfway through with pushing out the second one when Din rushes back and goes for the third.

Over his shoulder, Din yells, “Go, go, go! I don’t know how long that will keep the thing occupied.”

Corin nods as he keeps pushing the crate out into the snow next to the first one. Panting, he maneuvers them through the soft snowdrifts, trying to edge them closer to the waiting sogs. He sees the creature in his peripheral gnawing at the treat; it was a good distance away and Corin supposes Din had tossed the food as hard as he could to give them a little extra separation from the beast. 

Giving up on pushing the crates, Corin sprints the last few feet to Loko and leads him forward. He places the damaged crate on the sled, strapping it down good before reorganizing the camp supplies to better fit. He goes over to Din as the man finishes tying down the second crate to his own sled and helps him get the final crate on faster. Some of Din’s gear has to be moved over to stack onto Corin’s, so while Din handles securing the crate, Corin hauls a bag of bedding over to his sled and straps it to the other supplies. 

Corin’s gut settles weirdly as all three of the crates are secured. He hops onto the back rungs of his sled, considering the animal. The entire encounter felt...too easy. It was too easy to have only  _ just  _ been shocked and thrown around a bit; too easy just to lure it away with a bit of food; too easy to walk off the whole thing like it was nothing. 

He readjusts the  _ birikad  _ so that the kid is in front of him once more, allowing him to look around. His soft baby babble makes Corin feel somewhat better, but the sinking feeling in his gut persists. 

Pulling on his lead, he makes sure Din is following behind him before urging Loko to start running back the way they had come.

As far as he knows, they had done the job correctly. So what is this  _ awful  _ feeling settling in him? 

\--

They’re on the second day of the return trip when Corin’s good luck finally turns sour.

The wind is biting and brisk and it forces Corin to use the unwieldy goggles Din had insisted he wear. And while the sky is crystal clear now, the sogs are antsy and skittish, which makes Corin suspect yet another storm has reached them; he can only hope they make it back to the town before it arrives. He’s pretty sure the gear they have isn’t enough to withstand a potential blizzard. 

It’s times like this that he sorely misses the HUD of his old snowtrooper helmet. 

He’s about to yell at Din over the gusting wind to check if they’re still making good headway when both of their sogs toss up their heads and let out a wavering howl in alarm. It’s an eerie sound that sends shivers down Corin’s spine. He can somehow feel the frightened grip of the Child on his back through the protective layers of gear and the sling. 

The cries don’t stop and instead ratchet up a notch, piercing over the sound of their feet pounding against the snow. Uhri suddenly veers sharply away but before Corin has a chance to correct course to follow her, Loko is throwing his head back again and moving in an arc away from Din. 

Scrambling to get a better grip on the reigns, Corin scans the surroundings, trying to identify what spooked the sogs; it is obvious  _ something  _ startled them. He pulls on the reins, trying to get Loko to slow to a more controlled pace.

“Hey, easy! Woah!” he calls over the wind, hoping his voice will reach the sog and pull him out of his instinctive flight response. His heart is racing as the creature’s fear begins to stir his own previous apprehension into a full panic. 

“Come  _ on _ , Loko _ ,  _ ” he pleads with the sog. He gives a sharp tug on the lines, trying to get the sog’s attention. Miraculously, it works and Loko slows a little, head tossing up and down, neck muscles tense; Corin can see the whites around his dark eyes.

“Good! Easy, now,” he says, voice shaking with adrenaline. He pulls again and Loko slows to an uneasy stop. Finally feeling like he has his own situation under control, Corin stops worrying about his sled and sog and turns his head, desperately searching the vast stretch of flat snow for Din.

He spots him a ways back, still fighting for control of Uhri. 

Corin is about to wave his arms to get Din’s attention and direct him in his direction when there is a resounding **_CRACK_** in the air. Corin can feel the ground -- no, _ice --_ shudder under the blades of his sled even as he watches the ice _heave_ and something bursts out of the snow-covered ice in front of Uhri.

It’s a monstrous, ugly thing -- a streamlined, aquatic version of the sogs, but more similar to the creature they had encountered at the wreck. The side primarily facing Corin is a mottled yellow-green and he catches sight of a darker underbelly as it flickers and shines in a regular patterning of hypnotic splotches; it almost looks like it’s lit from within. What he notices most of all, however, is its  _ enormous  _ size.

It lets out a horrific screech and Loko nearly bolts again before he reigns him in. He’s watching, horrified, as the beast’s front flairs open, tentacles whipping through the air in a frenzy of erratic motions that further startle Uhri. As the sog loses her footing on the splintered ice, the creature’s tentacles lunge forward to wrap around her. As it slides back into the icy water, the beast gives a mighty yank to the now thrashing Uhri. 

Sog, sled, and Din follow it to the breach in the ice.

Din dives off the side of his sled before it tips on its side and is tugged into the water. He hits the surface and rolls, coming to his feet to immediately begin moving in Corin’s direction.

He doesn’t make it five paces.

The ice creature’s tentacles continue to thrash in its feeding frenzy. One of them swipes through the air, catching Din in the side and throwing him hard to the ground. He lays there, stunned. The tentacles withdraw, the slushy water where it breached stilling as it disappears to finish its feast. 

Corin lets out a shuddering breath.

“ _ Din!  _ ” he yells, voice cracking in fear. 

Din raises his head and his gaze meets Corin’s through the visor of his helmet and across the expanse of ice between them.

He stumbles to his feet, eyes still on Corin.

There’s another crack.

The abused ice below his feet gives way to frigid water.

He goes under.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos make for great sog treats! Please don't let your local sog go hungry!  
> Translations:  
> birikad - sling  
> kriff - fuck, basically  
> sog - squid dog. i'm serious  
> kei'nata tun - formal greeting  
> shabuir - extreme insult, like jerk, but much stronger  
> .  
> .  
> .  
> .  
> .  
> Content warning: One of the boys falls through ice into freezing water.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, you very nearly didn't get this on time! Between us having some. Distracting personal life developments and me having a minor existential crisis (again), we were a bit preoccupied! 
> 
> But here it is! Hopefully it's ridiculous length (and content!) makes up for last week's cliffhanger. Lots of research went into this one and the academic nerd in me is resisting the urge to cite my sources at the bottom of the chapter (there were a LOT). 
> 
> Please heed the added tags!
> 
> Things are finally (sorta) moving forward for these two...  
> -Fox
> 
> \--
> 
> waggles eyebrows  
> what fox said  
> -Nova

Corin stares at the spot where Din went under, his heart in his throat. 

It had happened in a matter of  _ seconds _ . He can’t quite wrap his head around it.

His head feels fuzzy, his breath short.

_ No. No, no, no. This can't be happening.  _

Distantly, he realizes he's panicking. Not good. He takes in a deep, shuddering breath in an attempt to calm down, to do something,  _ anything _ . His limbs are frozen in shock but as he releases the breath he just took in, his muscles unlock and he bolts into motion. Corin doesn’t pause to think at this point, just moves. He's  _ got  _ to get to Din. 

He flicks hard at the reigns to urge Loko forward. The sog throws his head up in protest but takes a few halting steps. He’s frightened, prancing in place for a beat before moving again, tossing his mighty head. Corin doesn't have time to calm him, and he credits Susdavi’s thorough training for the way Loko follows his commands and moves towards Din against his own instincts. Eventually, he lets Loko come to a halt. He's got to get to Din, somehow, but the ice is likely to break again if he's not careful; he’s probably already pushing his tenuous luck by moving the sled as close as he has. 

He gnaws at his lip, painfully aware of the seconds ticking away. Jumping off the sled, Corin yells back at the sog, "Loko!  _ Don't move,"  _ as he drops the reigns, hoping to  _ anything  _ that he obeys and doesn't cave to instinct once more and bolt. With any luck, the creature in the ice is content with just one sog for dinner and won’t be back for more.

Corin tries desperately not to think about how little good luck he probably has left after the previous four days of relatively easy travel.

The air is biting cold and he begins a quick mental calculation, trying to figure out how long Din might have. He quickly gives up, however, as the exposed skin on his face not covered by mask or goggles stings with the cold. It is a bitter reminder that it’s guaranteed that the water is frigid enough to cause an incredibly painful cold shock, which means it was more than likely that Din took in a lungful of water when he breached the ice. And with the added weight of his armor…

Corin can feel his chest tighten as panic sets in once more, but he ruthlessly shoves it aside. He's more than halfway between Loko -- who, by some stroke of his remaining good luck that he'll probably be paying for later, is still standing nervously where he told him to stay -- and where Din went under. 

There’s a flash of movement and Corin zeroes in on it. Somehow, Din managed to avoid gasping down water and is now struggling to drag himself out. Corin can see even from his current position that Din is already starting to lose coordination of his limbs; they’re stiff and awkward, and he slips back down into the frigid water more than once. It's all Corin can do to not simply bolt across the ice to help him out. 

But he repeats his training to himself as he makes his slow way over. 

_ Don’t rush the situation. Keep calm. You have ten minutes in freezing water for purposeful movement. _

Din is moving with intent, so he must have already gotten through the cold shock, at least. Though, Corin can’t tell from where he’s at if he’s managed to get his breathing under control. But he’s  _ moving  _ and trying to get out, so Corin has time to get to him safely. 

_ Ice that has been weakened will crack open if you walk across it. Walk around the ice if at all possible. If for whatever reason you have to go across potentially weak ice, evenly distribute your weight by dropping to your stomach and crawling. _

The words of one of his instructors from his training to become a snowtrooper filter through his mind and he finds himself dropping to the ground. 

He calls out, “I’m coming, Din! Just...hang on!” and hopes that Din can hear him.

It's aggravatingly slow going. 

The Child still strapped to his back begins struggling and pushing his tiny hands against Corin’s back while trying to untangle himself from his furs and the  _ birikad _ . 

“Hey, now, kid.  _ Please  _ stop squirming, yeah? I’m trying to get to Din. I’ve got to help him.” Corin hopes like hell that the kid listens because he can’t help Din and watch the kid at the same time.

The Child gets himself free and the next thing Corin knows, he’s tumbling along the ice towards Din. 

Corin watches in horror, terrified that he’s going to lose both Din and the Child. But the kid stops within a few feet of Din, who has stopped trying to pull himself out and has simply draped what he can of his torso over the ice edge. Corin stops moving closer and watches as the Child raises his hands, ears pulled back in concentration.

Understanding and hope blooms in Corin’s chest. “Careful! Don’t move him too much, just get him out of the water!” There’s a bob of the Child's tiny head and Corin holds his breath as Din slides completely out of the water to hover a few inches above the ice. Corin can see now that his body is racked with shivers and his breathing is still erratic. 

Frustrated, still stuck on his belly, Corin contemplates his next steps.

“That’s good, kid! Real good! Can you move him this way for me? Gently?” He gets a response in the form of Din moving slowly, his soaking cloak dragging behind him along the ice. 

Taking a deep breath, Corin slowly stands up, keeping his feet braced wide in an attempt to keep his weight distributed. He’s still a fair distance from the spot Din went through and he can’t hear any groaning or creaking below his feet, so he’s pretty sure he’s okay as long as he doesn’t move any closer. 

The Child’s hands are starting to waver slightly now, but he follows behind Din, little brow scrunched in concentration. Corin’s not sure he even breathes while he waits, hands clenched into fists and his heart racing.

After what feels like forever, Corin is finally able to reach out and touch Din. The Child lowers him the few inches to the ground before falling back on his bottom from near exhaustion, ears drooping. He coos at Din and looks up at Corin, eyes wide.

“You did so good, kid. Can you come get back in your sling? So I can help your dad?” The kid warbles before rolling unsteadily to his feet and toddling over. Corin picks him up and maneuvers the  _ birikad  _ around so he can help the kid get back in before he spins the sling back into place and secures it. He feels the kid settle against his back while he turns once more to Din.

Corin kneels next to him and places a hand on his shoulder. The Mandalorian is curled slightly in a fetal position, his body wracked with shivers. Corin has to remind himself that as frightening as it is to watch his body shake like it is, the shaking is a  _ good  _ thing; not shaking meant hypothermia. He can’t tell if Din is coherent or conscious right then, however, and he hates the helmet for keeping that information from him.

“Din, I need to get you to the sled, okay? I don’t -- don’t have anything to put you on and I don’t think carrying you is a good idea right now.” He bites his lower lip, hard, when he feels the frustration well up in his chest and brush the edges of panic. Carrying him would be faster, but dangerous. He couldn’t risk jarring Din and causing cardiac arrest. And that is only one of several things that could go wrong in the next few hours.

He doesn’t have many other options at this point and he desperately wishes he had something he could put Din on. But he doesn’t, so he carefully rolls Din onto his back before anchoring his hands in the straps of his shoulder pauldrons and tugging. It takes him a moment to find his momentum and a steady motion and it’s awkward as hell, but he’s able to slowly drag Din across the ice back to Loko and the sled.

His hands are still shaking and his back starts to ache from the hunched-over position. The tightness in his chest has yet to lessen and he knows a panic attack is imminent. But he shoves it all aside and focuses on his task.

“Damnit, Din.  _ Damnit  _ .” 

It hits him suddenly just how close he had been -- and still is -- to losing Din. The ice. The freezing temperatures and the blowing wind. How he nearly  _ drowned _ . He lets out an agonized sound when he realizes that Din’s helmet was likely the only thing that kept him from inhaling water when he went under, while the weight of his armor could easily have been the thing that dragged him down for good. 

He lets out a bitter, wet chuckle. “I know you picked this kriffing planet for me, and I appreciate the thought. I really do. But--” he grunts, pulling hard on Din’s shoulders to get him over an uneven patch of ice. “But you should  _ not  _ be allowed anywhere near snow and ice! This is the second time you’ve nearly frozen to death!”

His voice cracks on the last word and a sob is wrenched from his chest. He lets it, needing the release of pressure and emotion; his goggles and face mask would keep the tears from freezing to his face and eyes. They fog up and his vision blurs, but he can’t bring himself to care. When the sled, their only sled as it happens, comes into view, he’s gentle as he lays Din down on the snow. 

Looking at the sled, Corin quickly comes to an upsetting conclusion: there’s no space. The overwhelming dread tries to fight its way back up, and Corin clenches his fists before approaching Loko. The sog is frightened and apprehensive, but he offers a hand, hoping the creature will quiet down quickly, trying to not focus on the man only getting worse beside him. He’s still breathing, that's all that matters right now.

Loko calms enough for Corin to rest his hand against him. “You did good," he murmurs, "so g-good. You can get us back, I know it. You know the way home.”

He gets a snort in response, so he sighs before moving to quickly shuffle through one of the bags, pulling out one of the squid-treats. He offers it to the sog, who begins to gnaw distractedly and Corin gets to work reorganizing the sled. He needs space for Din and there’s not  _ enough _ . It makes his skin feel tight, so he begins to take the bags off the sled to reassess everything as a whole. 

With everything but the single bronze crate pulled off the sled, Corin contemplates his options. He finds a few but discards them all before coming to one that might work. It’d reduce his visibility some to secure some of their--his--things on top of the crate, but it  _ would  _ create extra room. He gets to it, picking up the gear and slowly redistributing it on the sled.

It’s not enough. 

_ I can redistribute some supplies to a bigger bag since I used up some things in the first leg of the trip,  _ he decides, crouching with the Child in tow to dump out some of the lighter bags. 

Still not enough. 

Corin’s eyes keep burning with frustration, a feeling of distress hitting him like a sack of rocks. The Child coos, tone worried, and something connects in his brain. He takes out their emergency items, thankful he kept them on his sled. He doesn’t want to use their only good sleeping bag, but he needs to keep Din from freezing further, so he pulls out the one in the emergency kit. He lays it out over the body of the sled and opens it up before moving back to the Mandalorian. He’s as gentle as possible when he picks him up, but he stumbles slightly from the ice water weighing Din down.

“Okay. I don’t...know if you can hear me, but. I’m moving you to the sled now and I’m going to do what I can to warm you until we can...set up somewhere.” His voice is shaking, and it feels like his resolve might crack at any second. 

After arranging Din on top of the sleeping bag, Corin digs through the kit again, finding the heat pods. He's still gentle as he puts them near key spots on Din’s body that he will benefit from most: tucked in his armpits and against his stomach.

“These should...help warm you up. Maker, I r-really need it to work. Din,  _ love _ ,” he chokes up, his voice cracking, “I can’t lose you. You c-can’t just...up and leave me. You said you wouldn’t. So it’s," he sniffs, swallows, "...it’s not happening.”

He zips him up as he finally gets both of his legs situated and then starts to undo the  _ birikad _ . The kid whines tiredly, and Corin pauses in his motions to explain, “I’m going to put you in the basket, okay? If anyone else is going to get hurt here, it’s going to be me, not me and you. Plus, it’ll protect your face from the snow when we’re going  _ really  _ fast. Please?”

He gets a pout in return and Corin decides to call that a success as he takes him out of the unraveled fabric and situates him up by Din’s head. He tugs at the drawstring on top of the sleeping bag, drawing it closed around the Mandalorian's head and the Child. The kid starts to coo at him as he clutches at the helmet, his face pressed against the cold metal. Corin sighs unsteadily as he covers the two of them up well with one of the emergency blankets. It eases some of his anxiety to have someone right there to keep double-checking to make sure Din’s condition hasn’t worsened. 

Corin moves heavier items next, like food, into a big bag to strap onto the crate to hold it securely. The smaller bags follow, and he attempts to use as few as he can, hooking the bags together for added support as he begins to test the weight of their gear. His cold-weather gear, tent necessities, and things for the kid go in a duffel that he straps to his own back. It weighs down on him some, but it’s manageable enough and he’s sure they can make it to somewhere safer to set up camp. They just needed to get further away from whatever  _ that  _ thing was and the still cracking ice. 

He notices a glassy sheen starting to flood up over the jagged edges in the water, and it makes his throat tighten up. Corin decides quickly to ignore the feeling as he fumbles for the lead, gripping hard against the rope and pulls, “Loko, go! H-hike!”

The sog snorts and prances anxiously, looking at Corin from the corner of his eye. Corin furrows his brow as he tries again, “Please, we need to get away from here. Go!” He pulls one more time and Loko begins to move through the snow, his pace slowly picking up. He notices when traction begins to pick up as the sled stops dragging behind and begins to glide on top of the snow. And now he can  _ breathe _ . 

For a short time, at least. It won’t last, he recognizes as he struggles to find another copse of trees for shelter. Panic sets in as his eyes only find flat land, ice, and some eroded outcroppings. 

He does a double-take at the spot of erosion before he pulls the lead to direct Loko in that direction. Loko moves easily at first, but begins to slide down the slight slope Corin hadn't previously noticed. Cautiously, he watches the way the contents of the sled shift and pull down just slightly. 

When he catches sight of exposed dark rock, he takes a sharp breath.

There's enough of a concave in the small ravine to protect them from the wind for the night. The space is just big enough for the tent and the sled. 

Loko is already slowing, so he doesn’t pull on the lead as he shouts, “Hold! Loko, we’ll set up here.”

Corin hops off the back of the sled the second the sog comes to a stop, dropping the bag on his back to the hard snow. He unzips the bag and gets out the large tarps, shaking them to spread them on the driest bit of land. He doubles them up, hoping they'll provide enough insulation and protection from the cold, wet ground. He pulls their tent out from the bottom of the bag and unfolds it, ignoring his niggling anxiety as he lays it out on top of the tarps. He hits the sensor to the side and the tent unravels the rest of the way before popping out to full height. 

As it opens out all the way, he moves back to where the sog is and grabs a hold of the lead to move the sled to where he needs it. The Child peeks out from where he is well-covered and makes a soft coo. Corin glances at him and attempts to offer a smile; he stops when the action feels more like a grimace and he looks over at Din. 

Din’s looks small and vulnerable bundled up on the sled, and Corin can visibly see his chest move with uneven, gasping breaths. He doesn’t unzip him from the emergency sleeping bag, instead opting to quickly drag him over the small patch of ground between the sled and tent. 

Gently, Corin pulls Din off the sled, gripping hard to the pauldron straps as he pulls him the small distance. He pushes through the tent flaps and gets Din inside, grateful the flaps close behind them immediately with no fuss on his part. 

One worry solved, an endless amount to go. 

He sets Din down gently before going right back out to move the bags into the tent. The Child has moved from his curled up position around Din's helmet when he makes it back in. He offers the kid a wan smile before quickly setting up the small space heater near Din; it wouldn't do too much to ward against the deep chill of night, but it would be better than nothing. As Corin sets the med kit next to him, the Child looks at him worriedly from where he's sitting by Din's head.

Distractedly, Corin unzips the emergency sleeping bag keeping Din protected from the biting chill. His armor has fogged up from the heat pods and his clothes stick to him. Corin quickly takes off individual pieces of armor and sets them aside to wipe down later, too focused on getting Din warm to think about tarnish. The bodysuit is tricky and he contemplates the two pieces of thick fabric; he's very hesitant to move him anymore unless absolutely necessary. He bites his lip and looks into the supply. Moving things around, he eventually gets his hands on a sharp pair of medical shears. 

Careful to keep the tips pointed away from Din’s skin, he finds the edge of his shirt by his hip and starts to cut upwards until he gets near the helmet. From there, he stares at the thick collar and where it tucks under the rim of the helmet. He gently tugs down at the fabric while he cuts in an attempt to keep the blades as far from Din's jugular as possible. Once he's severed the collar, he moves down each arm quickly. Next, he starts on the pants, starting at the hip and slicing down both pant legs. 

Corin gets him undressed fully before he grabs a towel from inside of the kit and starts blotting away excess water from Din's skin. He vaguely takes in the sickly pale tone, spiderwebbed with dark veins, before focusing intently on his task. It takes a lot of self-control to keep from rubbing at the cold skin in an attempt to warm it.

Once Din’s front is dry, Corin sets up the thicker and more insulated sleeping bag before carefully rolling Din onto it. He repeats the drying process on his back, being cautious that he continues to blot instead of rub. As soon as all of the cold moisture has been removed, Corin works to redress him slowly. He starts with a thermal undershirt and underwear before adding a pair of thick socks. As he’s pulling on the last sock, he remembers meeting the Child and Mandalorian for the first time and how, just like now, the same icy chill that he has loved for years has inflicted suffering on those he cares about. Swallowing roughly, he resituates the heat pods between Din’s armpits and against his stomach before zipping up the sleeping bag with finality.

His own fingers feel numb through his gloves. 

The kid appears next to him before waddling over to Din, struggling to get on top of him. Corin gives him a gentle push and he settles down in the center of Din’s chest, his little brow scrunched up in worry. Corin finds one of the smaller bags hiding behind the others he had stacked against the tent wall and unzips it to pull out a blanket. His eyes start to burn as he realizes it’s the emergency blanket he had tossed to Din that first day they met. The former snowtrooper purses his lips together as he tries to hold back tears, laying the blanket over both Din and the Child.

Despite his best efforts, tears brim up anyway; Corin knows he has to get Din’s now soaking face mask off and his hair dried, in addition to checking his responsiveness. His level of consciousness and coherency will also help Corin determine his next steps.

Not stopping to think, Corin hits the helmet latch with shaky hands and it hisses softly into the quiet space inside the tent. Carefully, he places his hands on either side of the helmet and lifts it off. He sees dark wet hair and pallid, damp skin but he does his best to ignore it for now, looking inside the helmet instead to see how soaked the insulated padding is. He eyes it critically and reaches in, relieved to find that it is removable. He takes it out and sets it aside next to one of the heat pods to dry out better.

He turns back to Din’s dark hair, eyeing it intently. Hands still shaking, he grabs a cloth and beings blotting up the water dripping from the flat curls. He’s gentle as he uses the rag on Din’s face as well, carefully pushing the hair sticking to his forehead out of the way. Taking a lock or two of hair at a time, he holds the rag around them, soaking up the water as best as he can. He methodically moves around Din’s head, working top to bottom and left to right. 

Once he’s satisfied that he’s removed as much of the water as he can, he sets down the now wet rag with a sigh. He can feel Din’s eyes on him, but he keeps his own down. He moves over to their gear bags and goes through his spare clothing, trying to find Din’s spare face mask that Susdavi had given him. He finds it towards the bottom of the bag and sighs in relief as he unfolds the fabric. Turning back to Din, he’s gentle as he pulls it over his head. He’s careful as he fits the mask over his drying hair before pulling the front part over his nose. Corin gives it a look over as he smoothes the fabric down. With a nod, he turns back to the helmet and picks it up.

The padding is drying out slowly, which is good; he places another pod by it, hoping to speed up the process. He grabs another rag and begins to run it over the inside of the helmet. It soaks up the residual water that remains in the crevices of the metal. He focuses on that, being careful as he cleans the inside near Din’s visor. He’s not completely sure how fragile it might be, so he refrains from applying too much pressure, choosing instead to rub at it gently. He makes sure that it feels dry to his bare fingertips before going back to the padding. 

He runs his fingers over it and decides that it was probably dry enough, now, and that the facemask Din is wearing will help dry up any remaining water. He goes to attach the insulation again to the inside of the helmet before moving back over to Din. Distantly, he notes that the man’s eyes are closed and his breathing is slowed to a regular, though still slightly labored, rhythm. He gently puts the helmet back over Din’s head, listening for the latch connecting. Upon making sure it’s secure, Corin’s hands begin to lock up and shake as his panic unfurls. He’s hit with the sudden awareness of just how real and severe the situation had been and likely still is.

_ It’s not like that had been the first time it came off in my presence _ , he tries to remind himself. The damp rag falls from his slack grip.

Not that he had had his eyes open or anything the first time. Or that he had been the one to initiate its removal. Or--

Knowing it was his own fingers that pressed the latch and pulled it off -- and without Din’s permission -- brings the fear that he did Din wrong to full force. The air in the tent feels stifling now, and his breaths are coming out in short huffs as he shakily checks over Din for something else to focus on. But he finds him well covered, the heat pods doing what they can for now. There probably is something else he can do, but right then Corin finds that he can’t  _ breathe _ . 

With one last glance at Din’s helmeted face, he pushes through the magnetized barrier holding the tent entrance together, somehow remembering to double-check that it shut correctly. He stumbles into the snow, vaguely noting that night has begun to fall. Loko makes a surprised snort at his approach but quickly calms as Corin passes him. His boots sink into the soft drifts and he gets a decent distance away from the tent before his knees buckle from under him. He lands down on his butt in the snow and he doesn’t try to get back up. 

Corin’s eyes burn in the biting cold as he grasps weakly at the snow for something to hold. He chokes up as he lets out a strangled sob, tears slipping down his face. The wind bites his skin as he pulls down his face gear, and he  _ screams _ . It tears through him and is quickly caught up in the winds buffeting him. Hie closes his eyes as he tries to calm himself down and for a moment the wind is all he can hear.

A sharp scream cuts through the air back at him, and his eyes fly open at the sound. Looking behind him, Corin comes face to face with the determined expression of the Child, his big eyes looking up at him as his mouth closes. 

“Wh-” Corin begins to croak out before the Child repeats the scream. Corin chokes up again, this time fighting a watery smile before he screams hoarsely right back. The tension in his shoulders unravels as the kid returns it once more, jumping up and down in his thick coat. Corin pulls himself up to his knees and he breathes in. He wipes hard at his face with the back of his gloved hand before crawling up to the kid and slumping again.

The Child coos up at him softly as he places a small hand against his pant leg. Corin manages a hoarse, “Thanks kiddo. I n-needed that. Hey...while Din rests let’s...” Corin searches their surroundings, looking for something as a distraction for the both of them. “Want me to show you how to play with snow?” he asks, unable to think of anything else.

The kid looks at him apprehensively, and Corin tries again, knowing the kid has had some bad experiences with the stuff in the past. “I promise it’s pretty fun to play with.”

He gets a slow nod from the kid and he relaxes. He begins to build up a mound of snow just big enough for the kid to play with and the Child watches with a squinting, wary expression. Corin attempts to keep it small enough for the kid to handle easily in hopes it comes across as less threatening. 

“Okay.” He balls up a small bit of snow before placing it into the Child’s hands. “That is a snowball. It can be whatever size you want, but the fun thing about snowballs is that you can throw it at people for fun and it shouldn’t hurt.” 

He figures that he should show him, so he makes another rounded ball and looks around for something to toss it at. He finds the bare bark of a nearby tree not completely overtaken by snow and flings the snowball hard in its direction.

When it hits the tree solidly and explodes in a flurry of white flakes, the child squeals, his ears perking up, eyes going back and forth between the tree and Corin. He looks at the small cold ball in his hands before he sets it down and packs more snow onto it, making it bigger. Corin furrows his brow when it starts getting a bit too big for the kid, but he gets the idea when the Child backs away slightly, his hand extending out a little. 

Corin figures the Child must be tired from assisting to save Din, but he’s not using too much energy now and the snow lifts easy and shoots forward, slamming into the tree. The kid giggles in newfound delight, clapping his hands together before going right back to dig in the snow to form another ball. 

Corin puts a hand up to make him slow down before showing him something new. He fixates on the mound he made before, making a second ball and piling it up on top. He makes the third one a bit smaller than the rest and places it on the second. The kid is watching his movements intently as he digs through the snow beneath them, hoping to find dirt. The snow is much too deep and frozen, however, so he pokes eyes into the top ball before slowly rounding out a smile. The Child coos, realizing that the figure is almost the same size as him. 

He reaches forward and, with little fingers, touches the smile that Corin had carved out. He reels back and sits down before beginning to work on something from the snow around him. Corin’s content to sit quietly and watch the way the Child pulls the piles together, making three in total. There are two bigger piles and one small one in the middle. As the kid pushes at the piles of snow, he forms the shape of a head on the center pile. It comes out big with lumpy little ears coming out from the sides at the wrong angle. 

It was them, Corin realizes, and he sighs softly.

“We almost lost him, d-didn’t we?”

The Child looks up at him as he applies finishing touches to his creation.

Corin continues, voice cracking, “I don’t want to lose him. I...I can ‘t. We can’t...I don’t...know what I’d do without him. Or, stars, you. I can’t even think about it.” He swallows roughly. “Thank you for what you did today. I couldn’t have...have done it without you. My bad luck would’ve gotten in the way something awful.”

The kid shuffles up close to him and presses into the thick coat Corin is wearing. He thinks the Child is cold until he holds his arms up and tries to wrap them around him in an attempt at a hug. Corin’s breath stutters out as visible puffs in the air and he slowly puts an arm around the little one, gentle. 

“Thank you. I really...really needed this.”

They stay like that for a moment, Corin’s posture relaxing before he finally breaks away. “Okay. Can you go check on Din? I’m going to try figuring out what we have in the way of food.”

He gets a coo in agreement, so he stands up as the kid begins to shuffle back to the tent. The ex-stormtrooper sighs before going to check the sled, pulling his face gear back up as he goes. Loko tenses again when he comes near him, so he raises his hands to show that he wasn’t intending to cause harm. Loko relaxes slightly upon recognizing the gesture, laying his head back down.

He crouches to look over the sled now covered in fragments of ice. Without their other sled, Corin realizes they’ll be short on a lot of items. He figures he should do a brief inventory to see where they sit with supplies; he had taken a brief inventory when he had shuffled the supplies around to make room for Din, but didn’t pay super close attention. He’s slow and methodical and his stomach sinks with each bag he goes through. It’s...not good. It’s not awful, but it’s not going to help them for long. The damaged crate is magnetically locked outside, so even if he wanted to, there’s no way to get inside of it. 

Corin had some of Din’s clothes on his side as a mishap of mixing bags, but the rest of his dark clothing was gone, and there isn’t much to spare between the two of them when he needs to have enough for himself as well.

With a sigh, he hesitates to go outside of the tent again, but chooses to bite down his simmering anxiety and check on the remaining bags he left behind on the sled and Loko. He darts out of the tent quickly, trying to keep as little cold air from seeping into the tent as possible. 

Approaching the sog, he runs a hand over Loko’s head before grabbing a container of food for him off the sled, a dull ache throbbing inside of him when he sees the food Susdavi had given him for the two sogs. It was an accident, he knows the Twi’lek will understand, but it’s the last thing he had wanted to happen. Opening the container up and putting a bowl of slop on the ground, Loko eats it in earnest, his tentacles making a mess in his eagerness. 

Corin sighs again, rubbing a gloved hand over his temple before he starts to pick through the food rations in another bag, counting them before setting aside two packs for later. He knows rationally that Din is still too cold to even think about food, so he stops digging around for anything else. 

Another sigh starts to escape him as he realizes there’s nothing else to check. He looks back towards the tent, trepidation sitting low in his gut. He’s got to get Din warm and he can’t just keep putting it off because of his own festering guilt. 

_ He won’t remember _ , he tries to repeat to himself,  _ he’s too exhausted to remember this _ .

Biting down his apprehension, Corin re-enters the tent with their meager meal to find that Din’s mostly unmoved, the little one still curled up on top of his chest to share warmth. He melts a little at that, trying to remember just what he was so worried about. Corin sets down the food rations in a corner, rolling his shoulders back as he undoes his thick coat so he can get down to his other layers. 

He puts the coat to the side, rolling it up in such a way to make bedding for the Child. The kid shuffles off Din’s chest carefully before moving to the padded bedding, laying down and cozying into it with a soft coo. 

Corin undoes his boots and strips down to his thermal underlayer. He puts the boots up against the side of their shelter before he returns his gaze to regard Din. The heat pods have been doing their job from what he can tell; Din is shivering pretty badly now, but he needs to shake and produce warmth, rather than be still and cold. The shivering is likely to last a few days, at least, while his body works to regulate his system again. The exhaustion is finally getting to Din, though, and the shivering is getting hard on his weak muscles -- the trembling is more of an unsteady convulsion, coming and going with no real rhythm. 

Biting his lip, Corin makes a decision. He doesn’t want to strip them down for skin to skin contact yet because while it works, that much heat all at once might cause a jarring change to Din’s system. 

He shuffles up to Din’s side, knowing he should take off the helmet again but being unable to do so; he feels sick at the thought of removing it once more without asking Din first. He shakes his head, frustrated, before pulling the sleeping bag open. Refusing to think about what he’s doing, he quickly maneuvers himself alongside Din.

Settling awkwardly for a moment, he redoes the closure and what limited personal space they had before evaporates entirely. 

_It’s what Din needs right now_. _He needs to get warm and_ _he won’t remember this anyway._

He repeats that a few times to himself and it focuses him enough that he moves again and slides closer up against Din. He pauses for a moment before taking his gloves off, reaching out of the sleeping bag awkwardly to set them next to the Child. Swallowing, Corin then lightly presses himself up against the shivering Mandalorian and checks the heating pods. 

The ones on his front and by his armpits are still perfectly warm but he realizes he made a glaring mistake; he hasn’t done anything to warm Din’s backside to help his core regulate faster. Not wanting to remove his own added warmth so soon to get more pods, he makes a quick decision. Gently, he eases the man’s frame so his back presses more firmly against his chest. He makes sure the heat pods don’t move from their locations and listens intently for any changes in Din’s breathing that might indicate pain or distress. Part of Corin is waiting for the Mandalorian to get upset at him for crossing a line somewhere, but nothing happens. His breathing is still relaxed, though there continue to be audible hitches now and then. At least he is not gasping for more air. 

Corin looks up to see the Child watching his movements intently with a sleepy gaze and droopy ears. He relaxes when he sees the kid like that because at least someone might be able to get some proper sleep during all this; he realizes it is likely contributed to how hard the Child had worked to get Din out of the water earlier, but he hopes he can get some good sleep, anyway. 

He resigns himself to not getting proper sleep, for now, knowing that he’s going to be too worried to do anything beyond monitoring Din’s condition; he had seen more victims of ice water die after being saved due to their bodies crashing than he had seen people succumb to hypothermia. He hopes he has done everything properly and that Din’s condition will only improve from here, as he doesn’t know what he would do without him. For now, he will simply have to accept that he has done everything he possibly can to help him and that the situation is mostly out of his hands now.

\---

The hours pass slowly, evening falling into a traitorously cold night that slowly releases its hold as morning comes. From the sound of the wind, Corin thinks the heavy snowfall had slowed to light flurries and that they might be able to move from the spot if Din’s in a stable enough condition; the last thing they need is to be stuck in this spot, trapped inside by heavy snowfall. They need to keep moving to get back with the cargo, soon, or they risk being stranded until spring.

He hasn’t been able to sleep, too focused on the sound of Din’s modulated breathing to let himself relax. He has been sitting in the dark, staring at the inside of the tent, too aware of Din’s still-cool body against his own, his muscles wracked with trembling. After resisting the urge for longer than he dare admit, Corin finally gives in to gently passing his hands over Din’s arms and chest; he’s not quiet rubbing, as that could still potentially be dangerous, but the movements do provide a light friction, and therefore, warmth.

He thinks the man is asleep until he hears his voice, soft and mumbled, “Kriffin’...cold. Backwater s-stupid planet, fucking...sogs…”

Corin bites the inside of his cheek as he stifles a laugh. His breath hitches suddenly and he inhales a deep, shaky breath. And another. His next exhale comes out wet, and he wonders when he started crying again. He sniffles, awkwardly wiping his face on his shoulder, unwilling to let Din go. 

Din is awake and talking and Corin thinks that he might be okay. Or, will be okay, at least, given enough time.

Din continues to mumble for a moment, though he can no longer make out the words. Corin waits for him to comment on their current position, to move or do  _ something _ , but instead, he seems to relax against him, causing Corin’s breath to stutter out of him again for an entirely different reason. 

Corin lays there for a while longer, listening to Din’s breathing. It remains steady and even. Relaxed, though not the unconscious relaxed of sleep. Which means he is willingly laying there, pressed against Corin’s front. There’s no way for him to know if it is because he’s too tired to care or if he’s actually okay with the position, but Corin is loath to move, either way.

He sighs while running his hand up and down Din’s bicep in soothing strokes. 

“If you’re awake and feeling up to it, we should probably get something warm in you. Something with calories.”

Din nods, the back of his helmet making a soft rocking motion against Corin’s shoulder. “Okay.”

Corin resists the urge to sigh again. He really didn’t want to get up, but he has to get something for Din to eat and then find somewhere to go to give him the privacy to do so. He wants to check him over, make sure he’s okay, but there's no way that was happening. He swallows and unzips the sleeping bag before starting to shift out from under Din; he's careful to steady him as he rolls onto his back without Corin’s body there to support him. He makes a pillow by stuffing a bag into another, using the materials they have around them as he puts it under the helmet to support his neck.

The Mandalorian is quiet as he does this, but when he starts to move away to figure out what the food options are, he hears, “Corin. Can you...help me eat?”

Corin’s brain stalls out as he turns around. He blinks. Maybe he heard wrong? “What?” he asks, cursing his own voice as it comes out higher and shakier than normal.

Din sighs before lifting his bare hands out from under the blankets. Corin has to consciously drag his eyes from the sight of Din’s broad palms and square fingers to pay attention to what he’s saying.

“My…” he huffs, frustrated. “My muscles feel weak. Shakey. I’m not...not sure I can hold a bowl or utensil.” He pauses again, looking down at his own hands. Quieter, he continues, “You’ll have to take my helmet off, too.”

“What?” Corin asks again, voice hushed. Things had begun to take on a surreal feel.

“My helmet, Corin. I don’t think I have the coordination to hit the latch. You’ll have to do it.” 

Breath unsteady and his own hands shaking now, Corin’s voice breaks as he turns his gaze back to Din’s bare hands; they were easier to look at, he decides.

“I can’t. Won’t. It’s...not fair to you. I can’t do this. I -- I already-“

Din’s voice cuts him off, clear as day despite the light shivers still going through his body periodically, “No. L-listen to me. You are my  _ aliit _ . It was fine the first time, when I did it myself. It’s fine now if you remove it. We both know my helmet has to come off, and I trust you. It's okay.”

“The first time you had me keep my eyes closed! How is this in any way  _ fine  _ or the  _ same  _ ?” He swallows harshly, closing his eyes and cursing his own bad luck. “I already had to take your helmet off, Din. I already took it off and I  _ didn’t ask you _ . I didn’t--didn’t even think. I...” he begins to trail off, looking at his own hands now and refusing to meet Din’s gaze through the visor.

Din lets out a shuddery breath before saying, quietly, -- and how he could sound so calm and quiet at a time like this Corin has no idea, -- “I know. It’s okay. You d-did what you had to do.” Corin goes to protest again, but Din isn’t done. “Corin. You are  _ aliit.  _ Family.”

Corin swallows thickly, stunned. Din called him family? He has no idea how to process this right then, so he tucks the word,  _ aliit _ , in his heart to look at later. Biting his lip, he moves back to sit next to the Mandalorian. Unsure of what to say, he passes his eyes over Din's helmet, wishing he could see his expression. But his body is relaxed, posture open. Without much of a choice, Corin's hands shake as he places them on either side of Din’s head.

The latch hisses as he presses it with a numb finger and he bites past his suffocating apprehension.

Dark eyes meet his gaze evenly, and he doesn’t remember how to breathe. Hands shake harder as he pulls the slightly damp face mask off as well, gentle as he lifts it up over his head. His world shifts. Sure, he had removed Din’s helmet just hours ago, had seen his face. But he’d been so focused on keeping Din from freezing to death that he hadn’t taken the time to properly  _ look.  _

He’s...Corin doesn’t recall what he had expected, and he finds that he can’t bring himself to care. Din’s dark brown eyes are heavily lidded with exhaustion; he needs more sleep, but the shaking of his body keeps him from getting a proper rest. There’s a tiny smile tugging at the corner of his lips and Corin knows right then that he’d give anything to be able to see a full smile grace Din’s face one day.

Corin’s eyes burn furiously and as the world comes back into focus, he turns his lips up into his own wobbly smile. He wipes his hands hard against his eyes, sniffling as he takes him in.

“Your lips are still a bit blue.”

Din returns the remark with an uplifted eyebrow and a pained huff like he was only stating the obvious. 

Corin snaps out of it, shaking his head. “Right, right. Let’s...make sure you’re still doing alright.” He tucks back the now dry hairs covering Din’s ears to find that they’re only red from warmth and he’s seeing the same development with his nose. He fiddles with the face mask for a second before noticing how damp it is. He sets it aside and opts to grab one of the others Susdavi had given him. 

He self consciously shifts from their makeshift bed, getting up to grab the few rations he had grabbed earlier. He cracks the can of instant oatmeal, feeling heat seep from the can and he sets it on top of Din’s covered stomach while he checks the heat pods again.

They’ve all lost most of their warmth, so he pulls them away to charge for another session. He keeps one of them to himself to heat up one of the few sugary drinks, tearing off the biodegradable straw attached to it; hopefully, it will make drinking easier on Din. After enough time has passed for the oatmeal to be done, he pulls the lid off and lets it sit a little longer so it and cool and get a bit softer so it’s easier for Din to swallow. He quickly looks over to the Child to see if he needs to be fed as well, but he’s still nested in Corin’s coat for the time being so he lets him be.

The straw is a bit of a hassle for Din, but it was better than if he’d tried to drink straight from the side of the opening. Corin only manages to feed Din a few bites before he is struggling to keep his head up and swallow; he seems to be lost in thought, eyes distant, and Corin desperately wishes he could do something more to help him. He’s full and exhausted after getting about halfway through the container of oats, so Corin sets the rest of it down. He gently wipes at his mouth to clean him off before finding the face mask he’d grabbed earlier. Din closes his eyes as Corin lifts his head up and helps him get it on and situated right. His eyes are barely open as Corin carefully zips the sleeping bag around him once more.

He starts to back away to take care of the wet face mask and the trash, but he hears, “Don’t…”

Corin looks at him, cocking his head as he listens. Din’s head is turned away and his voice is gruff as he continues, “Come back, please. I’m...still cold.”

He bites down a relieved smile, setting aside the mask and waste because it can wait a while. He moves back to lay next to Din under the blanket, opting to leave the sleeping bag closed this time. Not pausing to think, he places his arm around Din to provide heat and comfort, pulling him close. Din’s breaths even out quickly due to his exhaustion and Corin can only hope he’ll sleep a little better than he had the night before.

Corin is nearly asleep himself when he feels Din’s breathing patterns change slightly under his palm. He blinks tiredly, waiting to see if Din is waking up again or if he is simply shifting in his sleep. He freezes when Din  _ does  _ shift, turning slightly so he is on his side facing Corin instead of back to front. One of his arms finds a place around Corin’s middle and his head settles on his chest.

Corin hardly dares to breathe for a moment and then Din sighs, murmuring soft Mando’a into his neck.

_ “Ni kar’taylir darasuum gar, cyra’ika.  _ ” Din lets out a long breath before settling once more into sleep.

Corin repeats the phrase to himself quietly until he’s memorized it. He doesn’t know what it means, but he hopes to be able to ask Din about it when they get out of this mess.

_ Something about it feels important _ , he thinks, as his own mind slowly drifts off to sleep.

\---

After another full day on the move, Corin decides it’s time to find a place to set up camp. The sog is pushing as hard as physically possible, but the pace Corin had set earlier is too much for the poor creature. And Corin desperately needs to check on Din again to make sure he is still doing alright.

He scans the horizon, looking for anything that might provide some form of shelter from the increasingly strong gusts of wind. He worries his bottom lip with his teeth, fear rising in his throat, as his eyes are just met with  _ more white _ . There is a storm brewing and they are in no way equipped to handle it if he can’t find them some sort of shelter. And  _ soon.  _

Eventually, just as Corin is starting to panic and the winds have picked up even more, he catches sight of a small stand of trees. He lets out a relieved breath and directs Loko to them. The sog’s steps pick up eagerly, recognizing that the trees mean shelter and rest. 

By this point, setting up camp is routine: tarps go down, tent goes up, supplies are unpacked. It’s a monotonous feeling now. 

This time, he can feel eyes burning against his back. Quickly, he finishes putting the last of their gear into the tent before going back out to move Din from the sled.

The Mandalorian is sitting up in the body of the sled now and is trying to get out of the sleeping bag cocoon Corin had wrapped him into that morning.

“What’re you doing?” he asks, rushing over. Din stops fumbling with the clasps and looks at him, his head tilted in such a way that Corin can  _ feel  _ his exasperation, even if he can’t see it on his face.

“What do you  _ mean  _ what am I doing?” His tone is edged with frustration, daring Corin to answer.

Corin sets his hands on his hips, putting his foot down stubbornly, “You stay  _ right  _ there. If I hear so much as a rustling, I’m tying you down to the sled.”

Din grunts, but stills his movements, once again staring at Corin through his T-visor.

Corin smiles in jest, “Good Mandalorian. Stay like that.”

He hears a snort as he lifts the sleeping Child out of his designated basket and quickly takes into the tent. He sets the warm, sleeping bundle down on one of the blankets he had already spread out on the tent floor. Tenderly, he readjusts the little hat Susdavi had made, making sure it was pulled low over the kid’s ears.

He sighs before going back out to help Din out of the sled. 

“Can I move, now?” At Corin’s shake of his head, Din lets out a long sigh, his head tilting back and to the side, hands facing outwards on his knees. Corin can’t help but chuckle at his utter exasperation as he tucks his arms against Din’s back and behind the crook of his knees. 

“For kriff’s sake,” Din mutters, slinging his near arm around Corin’s shoulders as Corin stands up carefully. His heart races at the proximity of their faces and he’s very glad that Din’s helmet is on again. He just hopes he can’t feel his heart thudding in his chest. 

The lack of armor makes him dramatically less heavy and Corin’s able to get him inside the tent quickly. He sets him down in the nest of blankets near the Child and ignores the soft muttering about being treated like glass. With a fond shake of his head, he goes back outside to retrieve the rest of their things.

He's grabbing the bags when he remembers Loko. He turns to look at him, biting his lip as he considers the lone creature and the oncoming storm. The sog is circling as he digs at the ground in an attempt to make a pit in the snow to lay in. Corin thinks of how Loko and Uhri had curled together during the flurries on the journey out; if the creature wasn't so  _ big _ , he'd lead him inside to shelter with them for the night. He blinks, then looks over at the tent. He has stretched a weather guard over it tonight in preparation for the storm if he just shifted it forward a little….

Corin sets the bags down before quickly removing the stakes holding the guard in place. Carefully, he tugs it forward until he has a decent amount of excess material over the front. He stakes everything again, making sure to stretch the front as far forward as possible. Stakes in place, he adjusts the poles before standing back to observe his work. 

There was now a decent-sized vestibule at the head of the tent. It would be a tight fit, but Corin is pretty sure the sog would be able to fit under it. Going back over to Loko, Corin takes his harness off before grabbing some of the sog treats and his bags. He leads him towards the tent and he balks at first, legs stiff and resisting Corin's tugs forward.

"Come on, Loko," Corin urges, ending on a soft whistle. Loko lowers his head, his face tentacles bristling anxiously. Corin holds out the treat encouragingly. "Come on. You'll be a little drier and warmer here." The big animal somehow manages to move in a motion very at odds with his size and slinks under the new shelter. Corin hands Loko the treat and it's inhaled before he immediately curls up into a large ball, feet tucked under the bulk of his body, his head begins to curl, nestling into his side. He barely fits in the small space, his shoulders reaching the height of Corin's hips even in the current position.

Corin pats his large frame as he scoots passed him to get to the door. He breaks the magnetic seal and ducks in. Before letting it close, he comments, "If you have to go out for any reason, please heed the house guest."

He looks up and is surprised to see Din without his helmet again, Corin's spare face mask still sitting over his face. He blinks once, his heart racing, before deciding not to comment on it. He gestures to the door he's still holding partially open.

Din leans to get a better look around him, raising an eyebrow when he catches sight of the curled up sog. Corin lets the tent flaps magnetize shut with a snap before standing at the front of the tent, awkwardly hunched over. 

He realizes he's staring at the other man only when Din clears his throat. 

_ So much for not making a big deal of it,  _ he thinks.

"The kid helped me get it off…" Din mutters, hand rubbing the back of his neck. He averts his gaze and is now looking at the stacks of gear along the tent wall opposite him. "I couldn't quite...get it off." He flexes his bare fingers before tucking his hands under the blanket pooled around his waist.

"And the kid actually managed to be of help?"

Corin's rewarded when Din snorts in response, the corner of his mouth ticking up. Corin smiles, too, then moves to help pull the face mask off. He checks him over quickly before opening one of the bags to get the blanket out, pulling it over Din and the Child, who nuzzles up against Din’s side under the thick fur blanket, making a quiet, sleepy coo in concern. 

Din is starting to look frustrated, his lips chapped from the frigid cold. 

Corin is more than a little apprehensive himself right then, between the oncoming storm and dwindling supplies.

But Din is also shivering again and Corin aches to help him feel better. They are nowhere near the town and his clothes weren’t getting dry enough to put on again due to the biting cold air. Corin again curses the blasted creature that took their second sled and was the reason for their current situation. He wants their spare blankets, Din’s extra clothes. Having anything more than what they currently had would be helpful.

Corin's mind drifts to Din's hands, currently bare and curled into fists underneath the blanket covering him. He sets the bags down and a flare of bravery shoots through him. He moves back over to Din and sits near him. He bites his lip, eyes roving over Din's face. When he just gets a slight confused look back, Corin sighs before slipping a hand under the blanket, brushing his fingers over Din's cold fingers. He’s met with a wary gaze from the other man, but the ex-trooper slowly takes hold of one of his hands. It takes a moment for the man’s hand to relax from being in a closed fist, but he takes Corin’s hand without comment.

Corin suddenly feels shy and vulnerable, his brief moment of courage sputtering out at the feeling of Din’s hand in his own; it was somehow easier to hold and touch Din’s hand when he had his helmet on. Without it, his eyes are piercing and intense and Corin finds that he can no longer meet his gaze properly.

_ If I’m feeling this exposed right now, though, how must he be feeling? _

The thought of Din feeling just as out of sorts with this as he is emboldening him once more. When he lifts both of Din’s hands outside of the blanket, the man lets out a weak huff of protest at them being taken from the warmth. Still unable to look at him, Corin stares at their clasped hands. He swallows, then awkwardly takes off his own gloves before retaking both of Din’s hands in his own. Slowly, hesitantly, he begins rubbing his thumbs over Din’s cold skin, tenderly tracing the dark veins that spiderwebbed over his prominent tendons. 

Din lets out a shuddering breath, but doesn’t say anything, so Corin scoots in close enough for the other to soak in more of his warmth, making sure not to disturb the sleeping kid. It’s easy to squeeze his hands and let that quell his desire to touch, but he knows that it won’t do much to help Din regain his regular body temperature again. 

Corin lets out a breath of his own, more of a sigh than anything else, as  _ want  _ courses through him. He closes his eyes. Breathes.

_ Kriff it,  _ he thinks, before giving in.

Eyes still closed, he brings Din’s hands up to his own dry lips, pressing soft kisses against each fingertip before slowly making his way down to the knuckles. He then brings it up to his cheek and holds it there for a moment before moving his head. He rubs his cheek against Din’s hands, more or less nuzzling them. Mindful of his growing stubble and how it might aggravate Din’s chapped hands, he turns his face until he feels knuckles against his forehead. He holds Din’s hands there against his bowed head and prays he hasn’t pushed his luck, that this is okay. 

He looks up as a breath shudders out of Din and sits in astonishment as his eyes flutter closed and he  _ leans into him _ . Corin takes the chance to rest his own head against the top of Din’s, hardly daring to breathe. 

Din’s hands are softer than he recalls them being the first time his helmet came off, unlike his own hands, rough from working hard over the years with no protective gear. Still a bit stunned, he lowers their clasped hands and resumes rubbing soothing circles into the skin with this thumbs. He can hear the way the Mandalorian’s breathing moves from staggering to steady, then, eventually, to calm and relaxed. Even as he slips further into sleep, Corin doesn’t pull his hands away from Din’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> birikad - sling  
> kriff - fuck, basically  
> sog - squid dog. i'm serious  
> aliit - family  
> Ni kar’taylir darasuum gar, cyra’ika - purposefully not translated at this time


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uhhhhh sorry for the super late chapter?! Life kind of happened and school got shitty for me for a moment there and I've just been generally exhausted for a while now BUT. Hopefully, the fact that chapter 4 got so long that we had to break it up into two individual chapters makes up for it ;alkdjf especially since we're posting both this week. and because both are like. 95% fluff.
> 
> ~Fox
> 
> Like Fox said, whoo. Life got busy and school got busy, and this guy? was a monster to write. there's no big perplexing plot that happens, it just got Big. hope you guys enjoy it! Ch. 5 will be out as soon as the edits for it are finished!
> 
> \- Nova <3

Time passes and Corin eventually figures it’s time he tries to figure out what to do for dinner that night. Reluctantly, he untangles himself from Din before easing him down to the bedding, making sure the Child is still tucked up against his side under the furs. The Mandalorian remains exhausted enough that his only response to the movement is a sigh and a furrowing of his brow. Unthinkingly, only wanting to ease the tense look from his face, Corin runs a hand across Din’s forehead, pushing his uneven bangs to the side. Corin smiles softly as Din’s expression relaxes.

He bites his lip as he stands up. He knows he can’t make a habit of these kinds of actions, that he can’t get comfortable with their increased closeness.

_ He’s only tolerating this closeness because he doesn’t have any other choice. _

Pushing his own hurt down at the thought, Corin sighs before shrugging on his only extra layer of clothing that isn’t currently tucked around Din. He tugs his gloves back on next before pulling his mask up over his nose and unlatching their shelter’s door. Loko’s head perks up when he steps out and the creature stands and stretches before moving out ahead of Corin.

He immediately regrets not taking the time to move all of their supplies in earlier. The wind had picked up to a wild gale while he had been asleep; the storm he had been worried about earlier had moved in a lot faster than expected. He pulls his hood up, wishing he had grabbed his pair of goggles before stepping out. He trudges through the new snow towards the sled to grab the two meager bags of provisions from the back. Hauling them up to his shoulders, he feels his stomach drop as he realizes a fire for warm food will be impossible tonight.

Looking around, he finds that the sog is now laying down again, staring into the distance in a way that Corin might consider wistful. As he passes his hand along Loko’s hide, he’s surprised at how warm he is. He thinks back to how happy Loko had been to sleep under the weather barrier of the tent, undeterred by how small it is. Despite the assurances by Susdavi that the sogs would be just fine in the cold, with no companion remaining their steed had no-one to huddle with for warmth.

He gives him a quick pat before turning back towards the tent. “Come on,” he whistles lowly, “Want to sleep under shelter again?”

Loko perks up immediately at the whistle before clambering to all legs, tail wagging behind him wildly.

Corin huffs a laugh, “I guess that’s a yes, huh?”

He opens the tent up quickly after the magnetism separates as Loko slinks down to dunk under the vestibule before getting comfortable. He sniffs curiously at the spot he has previously laid in before spinning a few times and plopping down, curling tentacles inwards as he tucks his head against his side. Loko’s eyes shutter into content slits as he purrs.

Closing the tent up as quickly as he can to keep the warmer air in, Corin looks over at Din and the Child. Both are still asleep, so he figures out what they are going to eat. After switching on a small lantern and taking off his mask and gloves, he hefts the two bags off his shoulders and begins to rummage through them.

There isn’t much.

He worries at his bottom lip, contemplating what they were going to do. They weren’t supposed to be out here this long, so while they  _ had  _ packed extra, they were still running low. It didn’t help that a decent portion of their extra rations had been on the other sled.

There are dried mushrooms, fish jerky, a few thermoses of fish broth, and a decent number of ration bars left. Sighing, he decides to save the broth for a day when they can warm it up. The mushrooms would be a good addition to the broth, so he puts those back in the bag, too. He wrinkles his nose at the ration bars and fish jerky.

_ Yum _ .

Reluctantly, Corin moves to wake Din, knowing he needs to increase his calorie intake to keep his energy up.

Gently, he places a hand on Din’s shoulder and gives him a slight nudge.

“Hey, you need to get some food, Din.” When he only gets a grunt in response, he sighs. “Come on, get up. Please?” Din groans before shifting out from under Corin’s touch.

Corin rubs the bridge of his nose tiredly.

_ At least he has the energy to be petulant _ , he thinks. That has to be good, right? He sits on the edge of the bedding and plucks the kid from his blanket nest along Din’s side.

“You’re ready for dinner, aren’t you, Green Bean?” The Child coos, his ears slumped sleepily. He reaches up to Corin, so he brings him close to his chest and cradles him. Little claws clutch at his shirt as he lets out a wide yawn, his large eyes squeezing shut. Corin chuckles and kisses the top of the little green head before turning back to Din.

He startles slightly, not expecting to meet Din’s gaze. The Mandalorian is burrowed in the sleeping bag, the rim pulled up around his jaw. His hair sticks out in all directions and his dark eyes are narrowed into a squint as he watches Corin and the Child. Corin’s spare face mask still covers the bottom half of his face, but Corin can tell the man’s mouth is set in a grimace.

Taking in the furrow of his brow and what he can see of his body language, Corin frowns.

“Are you okay?” At Din’s slow blink, Corin moves to reach out, intending to feel his forehead for the tell-tale warmth of a fever. He doesn’t get far before Din is shifting away from him and shaking his head.

“Ah, sorry. I--I should have asked…” Corin worries at his bottom lip, unsure of what to do. He watches Din shake his head again as he sits up.

Just as he looks like he might say something, a sharp gust of wind hits the tent, causing the taut fabric to billow and quake. Corin quickly looks up at the tent ceiling as the weather guard groans and strains against the ropes tying it down. The Child lets out a shrill chirp and Corin cuts his gaze from the top of the tent over to Din.

The man’s eyes are wide as he stares at the tent entrance, his shoulders drawn up slightly. At each shake of the tent, he flinches slightly, his eyes wincing shut. He pulls at the blanket that had fallen away when he sat up, pulling it around his shoulders and ducking into it. The Child trills from his place against Corin’s chest before shifting to reach out towards Din.

Din's eyes are completely closed now, his breathing coming in short, shallow huffs. Corin quickly lets go of the kid, who immediately shuffles over the bedding to get to Din. He crawls into his lap, one hand pressed against Din’s chest with a concerned coo, the other tentatively touching the side of Din’s masked face.

Corin watches as Din slowly opens his eyes and stares down at the kid. He still shies away from the roaring wind, but his gaze stays trained on the Child. He lets go of the blanket and reaches for the little guy, holding him to his chest. His body slowly relaxes, though his eyes are closed again and the wind continues to make him flinch.

_ Oh. _

The squinting, flinching from sound and touch. Din wasn’t used to experiencing things unfiltered through his helmet and armor, and this was the first time he had been awake and aware without it on. Recalling what it had been like to remove his trooper armor after a long mission, how overwhelming it was on his senses, Corin feels foolish. Of course, Din would be struggling with this.

Tiredly, he rubs at this temple before shifting and grabbing the ration bars he had decided on for their meal and the fish jerky he had set aside for the kid. At the Child’s chirp, Corin hands over the sliver of jerky to his greedy hands before shifting his attention to his own meal. Keeping his eyes down, he unwraps the ration bar, careful to keep the wrapper from making too much noise. He breaks a chunk off and eats it before breaking off another and offering it to Din.

“Eat something? Please?” he says, keeping his voice soft and low, his eyes trained on his own hand, not the Mandalorian. He holds his breath when he catches movement from his periphery and lets it out when Din’s hand comes into view to take the bit of ration bar. Corin breaks another piece for himself, then hands another one over to Din.

They make their way through both ration bars that way in relative silence, the wind still howling around them. Corin eventually looks up to study Din once more and is relieved to see the tense lines of his shoulders are now relaxed, his panicked breathing slow and regular.

The Child is cradled in the crook of his arm and against his chest; he blinks eyes large eyes at Corin sleepily before his little body is wracked with an intense shiver.

Corin frowns, as does Din, who also shivers.

Corin bites at the inside of his cheek as he notices the dip in temperature around him. Their little heater is going to struggle that night, and Corin worries the Child won’t be warm enough. He searches the tent for something that they might be able to use to keep the Child warm until morning.

Just as he is beginning to despair that they might not have anything, his eyes land on Din’s helmet. He scrambles up and takes a hold of it, feeling around on the inside to see whether or not it had completely dried. There was a residual layer of coolness to the lining, but it feels dry enough.

Taking the helmet back to his two companions, Corin picks the Child up gently from Din’s grasp. Carefully, he bundles the kid up in one of his fur blankets before upturning the helmet and setting him inside of it. He then grabs one of the towels he had set next to the heater to dry and wraps it around the helmet to create a cozy nest that it could sit upright in. The Child coos contentedly as Din helps to adjust his hat over his head, stroking along his ears as he does. Corin shifts the heater a little closer to the kid as a final touch, hoping it would be enough.

Turning from the Child, Corin licks at his bottom lip before biting at it, feeling awkward now that he didn’t have to worry about the kid.

“I guess we should, uh, probably try getting back to sleep again, huh?” he asks. Din just nods at him before laying back down and shifting the blankets around. Corin hesitates for a moment, trying to decide how to go about asking Din if they can share the bedding once more; it isn’t like they have enough for a second bed, anyway.

Before he can say anything though, Din is looking at him expectantly, an eyebrow raised. Swallowing, Corin casts one last glance at the Child to make sure he is settled in before shuffling over to the sleeping bag and blankets.

He turns off the little lantern that had been lighting the tent before getting ready to sleep once more. He strips off his boots and takes off his face mask, setting it next to Din’s near the helmet and Child. Hesitantly, he slides into the sleeping bag alongside Din and settles on his back, waiting to see how the other man wanted to sleep. Din curls next to him for a moment, his body a tense line, before he signs and rolls over towards Corin.

Corin freezes as Din presses all along his front, his head on his chest, one leg thrown over one of Corin’s, a hand draped over his torso and resting against his ribs.

They lay together quietly for a while and Corin feels like he could die from the tension between them. There's nothing different between their position now and from the night before, except where Din had been half-conscious then and was very much aware now. Corin stares at the ceiling, trying not to think about the weight of Din's body on his, the head resting on his chest. He can tell by the return of the tense line in the set of his shoulders that the other man hasn't fallen asleep yet, either.

Corin sighs before moving his hands from their tentative place on Din’s lower mid-back. He puts one up between his shoulder blades, the other at the base of his neck. Corin freezes as Din shifts, but then Din also lets out a sigh before finally relaxing into Corin.

Sometime later, Corin is nearing sleep when he feels a tremor. He blinks a few times, trying to clear his head, and he feels it again. He looks down at the top of Din's head, frowning. As he watches, Din is wracked with a convulsive shiver, his hands clutching hard at Corin's shirt. Wrapping his arms more securely around the Mandalorian, Corin worries at his bottom lip in thought.

He knows what will help but he's hesitant to bring it up. He's already crossed so many of the unspoken boundaries between them that he’s beginning to worry about crossing the wrong one and if there  _ is  _ a wrong one, it’d be this. He’s also unsure if this is a line  _ he  _ wants to cross. But Din shivers against him again and Corin closes his eyes with a sigh. Absently, he strokes at the hair curling at the back of Din’s head while trying to marshal his thoughts.

“I can hear you thinking.”

Corin startles slightly before chuckling ruefully. “Sorry. Yeah...I. I might have a way to help get you properly warmed up…” he trails off, uncertain. At Din’s inquiring hum, though, he steels himself before determining the best way to word his suggestion.

Staring at the ceiling again, he says, “It. Sounds counterintuitive but. Wearing less layers to bed is actually a more efficient way of staying warm.” He bites at his lip, pausing for a reaction from Din. When he doesn’t get any, he continues, “Fewer layers mean you’re less likely to sweat through them in the night, making yourself damp and therefore more susceptible to the cold. And...uh, skin to skin contact provides a more direct transfer of body heat.” He swallows and goes silent then, still staring at the ceiling.

The silence stretches between them for an unbearable length of time. Corin is just about ready to stutter out an apology and tell Din to forget he said anything when Din shifts. Corin freezes and removes his eyes from the roof of the tent just as Din unzips the sleeping bag and sits up. He's slightly distracted by the way Din's thighs bracket his own until Din reaches over his own head and grasps at the collars of his shirts.

As he pulls them up and off, he sways slightly with fatigue. On instinct, Corin grasps Din's hips to keep him steady; he can feel his face flush the second he realizes what he had done. He's incredibly grateful for the darkness inside the small tent because he knows he's got a bright red blush creeping up his neck and cheeks. Din's down to his undermost layer -- a thin black tank top with a high collar. Corin swallows, burying the urge to run his hands up Din's toned forearms.

Before he can give in to the impulse, however, Din shifts and Corin hastily lets go of his hips, letting him move to the side so he can maneuver out of his pants.

Corin sits up, figuring if Din was willing to give this a try, he might as well remove a few layers, too. He grabs the hems of his shirts and pulls them up, the motion not nearly as smooth as Din's had been, his hands shaking. He doesn't need to look up to know how close Din is; he's hyper-aware of his body, the way the air is slightly warmer around him. He bites at his lower lip before shimmying out of his pants.

He tosses them to the side, his heart racing.

_ Maybe this was a bad idea...Shit. He'll probably be able to feel my heartbeat-- _

The panicked thoughts are brought to a stuttering halt as Din lays back down, a guiding hand on Corin's bicep, urging him to lay down on top of him. Eyes wide, not entirely sure what he had expected, Corin follows Din's coaxing. They shift around for a moment and pull the blankets over themselves; Corin remembers to reach for the sleeping bag zipper before finally settling down.

They're so close that he hardly dares breathe. Their bare legs are tangled and they’re chest to chest. He has his arms on either side of Din's biceps, his hands on his shoulders, almost giving him a hug. Head up by Din's neck, he stares at the stubble on the curve of his jaw and swears he could keep them warm by the heat of his flushed skin alone.

He manages not to stiffen up or flinch as Din wraps his arms around him, but he can't help the involuntary flex of his hands when he feels fingers carding through the overgrown hair at the nape of his neck.

Turning his head, lips brushing the top of Corin's as he sighs, Din murmurs, "Can't sleep right withou' my beskar...feel too light. Ungrounded." His arms tighten around Corin and his body relaxes incrementally; he's asleep before Corin can respond.

Corin lays awake for a long while as his racing heart slows down to a more reasonable pace. While this was his idea, he wasn’t entirely prepared for just all that it entailed. He refrains from giving in to the urge to draw one of his legs up Din’s, from grasping onto his shoulders or playing with his curling hair. Instead, he lets his body relax into Din’s as their body heat warms the sleeping bag.

He drifts off slowly, the feeling of Din’s fingers still caught in his hair and the arm around his chest grounding him. A small, content smile graces his lips as he falls asleep.

\--

Corin wakes up slowly the next morning, his eyes heavy with sleep. His thoughts drift, fuzzy and indistinct, with no real thread tying them together. He feels movement beneath him and he whines softly in protest as he buries his face in the fabric under his head. He hears a soft huff and fingers card gently through his hair -- memories from the night before begin to filter through his head and he pauses, his tired eyes going wide. He blinks a few times to rid himself of the hazy feeling of sleep but doesn’t lift his head.

He’s too aware now of Din beneath him, the way their bodies are pressed together, their legs entwined. Curling up together had been one thing in the dark of night during a winter storm, but it was an entirely different thing in the light of day. He doesn’t want to pull away, the warmth too enticing, the feel of Din’s arms around him too comforting. He swallows and clutches tightly to the fabric of Din’s tank top.

“Thank you.”

Corin stiffens at the sound of Din’s voice, finally turning to look at him. Confused, he asks, “For...for what?”

“For saving me.” His eyes start to dart everywhere but in Corin’s direction as his voice cracks. “Again. I really...really thought I was gone that time, but I...I didn’t want to die. I’ve seen people who’ve gone under and never...never make it.”

A prickling of discomfort sinks through Corin as he rolls his shoulders. He shakes his head. “No, it was just...good luck that day. Bad luck, too, but good luck because I had the kid and...he helped me get you back and safe and...good luck, y’know?” He’s rambling and he knows it, but he doesn’t know how to stop.

He closes his mouth with a snap as Din shifts to stare at him in disbelief. Din puts his hand on his upper arm and it’s all Corin can do to keep from flinching at the touch.

“Corin...luck... luck has nothing to do with any of this.” His brow furrows as his eyes search Corin’s. Corin looks away and Din continues, “It’s a testament to your skills that I’m even here right now.”

Corin rolls his eyes and shifts uncomfortably. “Please. If it was skill, I would’ve known we were on a lake, and I should’ve been able to get us off of it safely before it was ever a problem.”

“Corin, you were there. You know as well as I do that it wasn’t something we could have prevented. But you made it better. You got all of us safe and stayed level headed the entire time.”

“Safe is never being in that situation in the first place! It was pure good luck that the ice didn’t crack further, that I was able to get you warm again. I should’ve…”

Din’s grip tightens around his arm. “Things happen all the time and it has nothing to do with luck, Corin. Your  _ skill  _ got us out of there safely.”

_ No, no, no.  _ He shakes his head, refusing to listen to Din’s praise. He feels ill. Guilty. Like he had taken something without permission, without having deserved it in the first place.

“Corin…”

Din is wrong. He doesn’t have any special skills. He never has. His ability to get through any situation had nothing to do with  _ skill. _

Vaguely, he hears Din say something else, but his head feels full of cotton. He sits up, hands curled in tight fists on his thighs. His throat burns with the ache to bite back, to tell Din how he wouldn’t be worth Hutt shit if it wasn’t for his occasional good luck saving his ass. But as he looks down at the Mandalorian, his heart stutters and his argument loses its spark.

He distantly notices that the warmth is seeping away and that he’s sitting on top of Din now, not entirely sure how he managed to get there.

He’s transfixed by the way Din looks from this perspective, sleep rumpled and soft. Butterflies take flight in his stomach as he gazes at him, realizing abruptly that he’s without his armor and helmet; he’s just wearing a tank top and fitted underwear and it makes Din seem so  _ vulnerable  _ . Corin’s eyes catch on the strip of skin revealed above his waistband where his shirt has ridden up and he bites down on his lower lip,  _ hard,  _ to keep himself from shifting his hands and sliding them along Din’s stomach and up under his shirt.

Corin swallows and pulls his eyes up with effort to meet Din’s gaze. They stare at each other for a moment and Corin feels the tension between them rising up once more. He parts his lips, needing to say  _ something  _ but no idea what.

But then Din breaks the tension by turning his head away and Corin snaps out of his daze. He drags a trembling hand through his hair before pressing his knuckles to his lips. Not looking at Din, he lets out a shaky sigh as he lowers himself back down until his forehead meets Din’s shoulder. He deflates against him, eyes shut, unsure of what was happening between them.

Din mumbles something and he almost doesn’t catch it.

“I’m...I’m sorry.”

It’s broad, almost questioning, like he doesn’t quite know what he should be sorry for. But Corin sighs and accepts the apology, offering a quiet one of his own.

“I’m sorry, too.”

He carefully maneuvers himself back to where he had originally been in an effort to keep Din warm. He slumps down, head on Din’s chest, and tries to calm his racing heart. The silence settles around them, easing from tense and uncertain to calm and relaxed as they slowly doze off once again.

They’re woken up an indeterminate time later when a chirp breaks the calm. Corin lifts his head up from Din’s chest just in time to watch the kid battle his way around the blanket, a grumpy expression on his face. His robes catch in the blanket and he topples over with an indignant squawk before squirming free.

As the Child shuffles over towards them, Corin feels Din’s arms tighten around him briefly before releasing him altogether. Worrying at his bottom lip, Corin sits up, careful not to linger or let his eyes stray from the Child.

“Guess you need food, huh?” He asks, voice soft. He chuckles at the kid’s reaching hands and grabby fingers, leaning down to scoop up the irritable bundle.

“Not much left, I’m afraid…”

As he digs through the bags for another piece of fish jerky and one of the mushrooms he intended to use for soup that day, his thoughts drift back to the way Din had seemed reluctant to let him go.

It was just because of the warmth he provided, right?

He’s not sure what he would do if it were anything else.

\--

Corin thinks he might cry when the Razor Crest comes into view. It’s snow-covered and iced over, still in need of repairs. It isn’t likely the ship will be able to produce much heat until he is able to pay for the parts they need. While he’s not the best mechanic, but he can damn well use a wrench and electric tape where needed.

He shoots a wistful glance at their ship, their home, before sighing and pulling on the lead to urge Loko to keep going ahead. The village comes into view through the thick fog and it’s eerily quiet as they make their way down the main street. Eventually, he can make out Susdavi’s home and paddocks. Some of the sogs are sleeping in a tight-knit circle and his heart aches that he couldn’t bring Uhri back to Susdavi with Loko.

Loko trills at the familiar sight and Corin calls out to him soothingly, “Almost there, buddy. Just a little further, okay? Almost back.”

He receives a snort and a head shake in response as Loko picks up his pace until he comes to the fenced-in area. The sog stops at the gate without him having to say anything, so he hops off the back of the sled and moves to free Loko from his harness.

He hears the creaking of a door opening and then gentle footfalls making it down the porch steps. He keeps his eyes trained on the sog in front of him, methodically undoing buckles and pulling straps loose.

“Storm caught fast, huh?”

Corin lifts his head up at the question to see Susdavi standing a distance away, arms crossed over her chest.

He brushes his gloved hand against his forehead as he starts to talk, “Susd-”

She puts her hand up to halt his speech as she opens the gate before moving to Loko. She strokes the top of Loko’s head, gaze thoughtful and sad as she looks in Loko’s eyes. Clucking her tongue, she pats Loko’s neck and backs away towards the open gate; the sog turns to follow her and makes his way through the gate and into the pasture with the other sogs.

Susdavi turns from watching Loko and regards Corin, her expression unreadable.

“The sogs are...they are precious to me,” she says, voice soft and underlined with pain. “Uhri will be missed by her siblings and me, most of all. But I do not blame you.” She looks away from Corin and over to the way Din is situated in the sled. “Cavao is known for its dangerous animals,” she continues, “and mine are considered food to most predators, despite being predators themselves. I am just glad, sincerely, that you three came back  _ alive _ . Yes?”

His eyes burn and he manages to nod through the mix of relief and guilt he’s fighting against.

“Was she eaten? Or was it the storm?” Susdavi asks.

He hesitates, the memory of that day an ache he doesn’t want to remember. “Not the storm. She...I don’t know. She got pulled into the water with the other sled. We couldn’t…” He trails off, helpless.

She hums thoughtfully, “So not the jelycuts...was the creature big?”

He nods immediately, unwilling to recall the sheer size of the creature in detail.

“Ah,” she tuts. “Aquisgos, then. “ She nods to herself a few times, finally shifting her gaze off of Corin to look back out at the sogs. “I will head out there when the storm clears and see if I can find what remains of Uhri for a proper burial. A mother she was not, but she had spirit.”

Corin takes in a sharp breath, nodding again as the tension releases from him. “I’m sorry,” he says quietly.

Another nod. “I know you are. Anyways, you found what you were looking for?”

“Most of it was taken down with the other sled, and…” he looks back at Din. “He’s in no shape to take it back to the client, so guess I will. I’ve got to find some lodging again, though. Can he stay here while I go?” He fidgets with the hem of his coat sleeves. “I don’t want to leave him in the cold for long.”

The Twi’lek hums before shaking her head. “No need to find anything. Bring him inside, there is a room upstairs you may use. I’ll keep an eye on your things while you take the crate.”

He blinks, unsure of how to express his gratitude for her kindness, but she rolls her eyes at him.

Waving her lekku she says, “Go, now, before your man loses any of his special Mandalorian toes. You can take the room on the left at the top of the stairs.”

Corin starts to retort that he’s done pretty good at keeping him warm. But then he recognizes the friendly jab for what it is and nods before maneuvering himself around the sled to get to Din.

The man looks up at him from his nest of blankets on the sled, a drowsy tilt to his head.

“Finally made it back,” Corin explains, unprompted. “Susdavi is going to let us stay at her place, so let’s get you and the kid inside, yeah?”

At Din’s nod, Corin helps him detangle himself from the blankets before holding his hand out to help him up. Din’s hand lingers on his own for a moment before the Mandalorian turns to make his way towards the house. Corin follows close at his side, ready to offer a steadying hand or shoulder should he need it.

They make it up the porch stairs and into the house with no problem, but the stairs leading up to the second floor are a bit more difficult for Din to handle; Corin keeps a hand at his lower back and patiently follows behind him. Once up the stairs, they find the only door on the left and Corin slides it open, peering inside curiously.

Din stands at his shoulder for a moment before sliding past him and into the room. He heads straight to the bed and lays down, helmeted head buried in the pillow and one leg hanging off the bed. Corin huffs a soft laugh before moving to shift Din’s leg onto the bed properly and pulling the blanket from underneath him. Din lets out a grumble as he drapes the blanket across his back and Corin roll’s his eyes.

He can hear Din’s soft, slow breathing through his helmet filter. Corin puts a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Hey, I’ll be right back before you know it, okay? Just gonna take the crate back to where you met the client. Please stay put?”

Din gives a soft huff in reply and Corin smiles before going back down the stairs, making sure to slide the door shut behind him. Once outside, he finds Susdavi holding the Child in the crook of her arm. He’s staring up at Susdavi, eyes intent on one of her lekku. At the sound of Corin’s approach, he turns his watchful gaze on Corin.

Corin gives the Child a small wave and gets an ear flick in response.

Looking up at Susdavi, he notes that she has placed the bronze crate upon a smaller, more compact sled. She holds a loop of rope in one hand, its ends tied to the front corners of the sled.

Handing the rope over to him, Susdavi says, “I can fetch one of the older pups to help you move it if you’d like.” Corin looks towards the pasture, watching the herd of sogs huddle close to Loko, their skin touching and foreheads meeting his one by one.

He shakes his head at her offer. “They’re in mourning. I don’t want to scare them by taking away another one.”

The crow’s feet around her eyes deepen as she smiles softly. “How can you tell?”

Bewildered, he shrugs and gestures out to them. “Are you kidding? Just look at them! They...they feel things just like we do.”

Humming in agreement, she shoots him a considering look. “They’re talking to each other, now. Offering comfort. I give them shelter and food, but they’re fast learners. Cavao has no native intelligent species and in fact, Sogs are a happy accident I come across thirty years ago now. They were dumb as sticks, then. Only kept them around because they were too stupid to stay alive on their own.”

She looks out over her herd, eyes distant. “Something changed in them over the years and they’ve only gotten smarter. Evolution shouldn’t work at the speed it seems to be moving at here, but I think, whether it’s a good thing or not, we’re looking at the first intelligent species of this planet.”

Corin looks back at the huddle of creatures and considers her words.

She adds with a rueful chuckle, “Don’t get me wrong. They still have a  _ long  _ way to go before they will ever be able to form a civilization as we define one. But I’ll do what I can to help them out in the meantime.”

“What happens when you’re…” he trails off, not sure how to phrase his question.

“Dead?”

He chokes, eyes wide. “I was  _ going  _ to say off-planet.”

Susdavi laughs loudly, rolling her eyes as she grips her cane tight. “You don’t worry about that. I still have some good years left in me and while I’m not quite the adventurer I used to be, I’m not ready to fall over dead, yet!”

Corin cocks his head, asking curiously, “Why did you leave home if you don’t mind me asking?”

She places a red hand over the top of his. “I told you that first day, Corin. I am a  _ runan _ , an exile.” She sighs. “More specifically, an outcast.”

He furrows his brow, confused. “Why?”

“I was shamed for the color of my skin on Ryloth. It’s a natural mutation of the genes that I had no control over.” she shrugs and the kid giggles at the up and down motion. She looks down at him, bouncing him slightly as she continues, “But it made me who I am today. I left on my own terms and I will never regret the decision. On my own, yes, but I got to lead the life I did because of it. Anyways, I’m not as strong as I used to be, but I still know a few things.”

He smiles at her, awed at her strength and perseverance. “I can only imagine. I’m sure you have some amazing stories to tell and I only wish I had the time to hear them.”

She laughs, her lekku waving him away as she heads back to the gate. Over her shoulder, she calls, “Get going, flatterer.”

He gives her a salute and adjusts his goggles over his eyes. Getting a good grip on the rope, he gives it a firm tug, his arms straining as he tries to get the blades out of the ruts in the snow it had settled into. After a few difficult steps, the sled beings to slide across the snow easier. He settles into a brisk pace as he heads to the bar, waving a final time in the Twi’lek’s direction as he leaves her yard.

As Corin gets closer to the bar Din had met the client in, he realizes in dismay that it’s closed. Snow drifts have piled up against the front of the building, blocking the doors and a few of the lower windows. He chews at his bottom lip, perplexed; he doesn’t know where else to find their client.

He walks over to where the sign hangs above the door before stopping. Considering his options, he drops the rope before deciding to hop on top of the crate to sit down to wait. He’s pulling his goggles back onto his forehead when he hears a soft crunch of snow. Warily, he turns to look in the direction of the sound.

Approaching him is a fair-skinned human woman and something about her clothing tells him she is Corellian. She is wearing a fur coat so long that it nearly drags behind her and behind dark curls, he spots large, round golden earrings.

She starts to speak, and...definitely Corellian, he keeps to himself.

“You have my crate, but  _ you  _ are not my bounty hunter,” she says confidently, and yes, definitely Corellian by what he can make out of her accent. She crosses her arms over her chest, hip canted to the side.

“What’s to say I’m not them?” he challenges.

She cocks an eyebrow at him, incredulous. “Mandalorians would rather suffer a thousand deaths before even partially showing their face. Or...something like that.”

Corin cracks a smile. “Sounds close enough. I was with him for the retrieval,” He explains. “We don’t travel alone. Our trip was fine on the way there, but it went haywire on the way back. We were attacked by one of the native creatures and he went through the ice. He’s better now, but not well enough to be walking around.”

“Huh.” She glances at the space around him and the single crate. “Do you know why my other crates have disappeared off my tracker then?”

He winces as he recalls the aquisgos. “Uh. As I said, we were attacked. They might have been eaten by the creature that broke the ice under us.”

Her nose wrinkles, “Oh, well. I can always get more of what I had in those. You, however, have brought me the one I was most worried about.”

He hops off the top of the crate as she approaches it, her gloved hand touching lightly against the damage along the top.

“Know what caused this?”

“Entering the atmosphere, I think.  _ And  _ a bit of it is from a creature trying to open it with their...uh, teeth. I think it was their teeth, anyways.”

She grimaces at that. “ _ Maker _ . I know which backway not to take anymore, then. I’d like to avoid this occurrence from happening again. Jargaos is probably a safer bet,” she muses. “Everything is dead there and can’t eat my crap.”

Corin smiles slightly at that as she pulls a small bag out of her pocket and hands it to him. “Here’s some Old Republic credits. Jargaos and some of the planets in the same system will take them in exchange for fuel for your ship. Your friend didn’t want anything to do with old Imperial credits, so I kept my promise. And….” she trails off, reaching into an inner pocket of her fur coat to pull out a stack of Beskar.

His eyes start to widen when she hands it to him. He looks from the substantial pile of precious metal and back to her.

“I never said anything about these, but I have no use for stolen Beskar.” She explains. “He’ll benefit more from it.”

“You...really?”

She rolls her eyes. “Yes, really.” She moves over to the crate and pulls a small device from her pocket and Corin stiffens, looking around.

“Do you want me to go ahead and leave then?”

Shaking her head, she presses the device and he can hear the pop of a lock on the crate. “I’ll need your help getting it back to the lodging I’m at, so stay. You’re allowed to look.” She swings the lid open and looks inside with a smile. “Corellian goods. I’m...for lack of better words, exiled from home. My father is...an important person and he didn’t like that I wanted to do more with my life than be the wife of some stuffy diplomat. I haven’t seen my mother in years, but every couple of months I send this crate out and it comes back to me filled to the brim with  _ home _ .”

She’s quiet for a moment as she lifts a blanket from the top of the collection of goods, pressing it against her face and inhaling. With a sigh, she says, “Don’t get me wrong. Corellia is not home, not anymore. I have a family that’s more than blood, now, and I wouldn’t trade them for the universe. But my mother… I miss her terribly. So, thank you, for getting this to me so I could have her back for a while longer.”

His expression softens as she shares with him all these things he didn’t need to be told. He feels honored to have been apart of getting this back to her. “Anytime. Just don’t make it a common occurrence, yeah?”

She smirks and holds out her gloved hand to him. “Zeth Siacla. Can’t make any promises, so I’ll be sure to keep your lot in mind.”

“Corin.” He takes her hand and considers for a moment. “Just Corin works.”

“I respect that. Take care of yourself and your Mandalorian.”

He bites back the technicalities of Din being  _ his  _ Mandalorian this time and just takes the comment as is. He follows her to her lodging and pulls the sled behind them. Once there, he pushes the crate off the sled and onto the wooden floor.

After saying their goodbyes, he heads back to Susdavi’s home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments keep a sog from going hungry and the Child happy! <3
> 
> Final chapter will be up tomorrow and will include supplementary artwork!
> 
> Translations:  
> Jelycuts -- the land-squid thing going after the crate in chapter 2  
> Aquisgos -- the giant critter from the ice in chapter 2. We called her Nessie the entire time we wrote this a;ldk


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We hope you guys enjoy the final chapter of Adore You! It's been a wild ride of a fic and by far the longest thing I've ever written, alone or with someone else.
> 
> And I just wanted to put out there that the whole "strip down to your lowest layer of clothing while camping in the cold" thing in chap 4 is actual advice I received from my camp class instructors last October after i froze my ass off the first night out camping despite being in two layers of clothes. That second night I did as they suggested and took off all but my underwear, shirt, and socks and I slept SO MUCH BETTER. I didn't have a Corin to snuggle up with tho...I had to make do with a hot water bottle at the foot of my sleeping bag jdjchd
> 
> ~Fox
> 
> Like Fox said, longest thing I've also ever written alone or with someone else. It's been an adventure, and it's not stoppin' here. I'm in for the long haul. We've got some goodies coming up next!
> 
> \- Nova <3

The sled drags behind Corin as he slowly brings it back to Susdavi’s place. He hauls it under the shed roofing and pulls the weather shielding over it to keep it out of the elements. Stepping up the porch steps and shaking the snow off with a shudder, he pulls the face mask down off his nose and the goggles completely off the top of his head. He gives the goggles one last look as he brushes his hand over the lenses before he sets them back into the wicker gear basket.

Corin opens the front door and is immediately accosted by something slamming into his shins. He startles and looks down to find the source of the attack; the creature is nothing short of  _ tiny _ , its hide a teal tone with white specks and spots that seem to glisten and glow from within. He notes that even the Child is bigger than the little scrap of sog and watches as the kid waddles over to pick the pup up. The pup purrs up at the Child, its tentacles prodding at the kid’s face until reluctantly pulling away when the kid squeals and pushes them off.

Susdavi is sitting at her chair, head propped up by the back of her hand as she smiles fondly at the two young ones. She glances up at Corin for a second before looking away at them again.

“Hope you don’t mind, but Ryn found someone his own size to play with and she’s been missing out on playtime with the other sogs.”

“Oh, no! I don’t mind at all. As long as he wants to play with her, that’s fine by me.” He crouches down and pets the creature’s head, which she pushes up into his palm. Smiling, he stands back up and suppresses a small groan as various aches settle in. “You don’t mind watching them, then? I’m going to help Mando get cleaned up...we both need it.” He pauses, thinking. “His core temperature should be regulated enough for one…” he mumbles, mostly to himself.

He trails off and she nods, standing up as she gestures up the stairs, “Let’s go upstairs so I can show you the bathroom and then get out of your hair so you can enjoy bath time with your Mandalorian.”

Biting down any remarks about  _ his  _ Mandalorian or shared bath time and feeling a flush begin to creep up his neck, he nods. “Please, thank you.”

She shoots a stern look at the Child and pup as if telling them to stay put with her eyes alone. It seems to work, as the sog sits down on her butt and the kid follows suit. He chuckles and trails behind Susdavi by a few steps as she makes her wait up the stairs.

She slides open the closest door on the right and he’s surprised by the size of the room beyond it. The bathroom on the Razor Crest was more of a glorified closet than anything else. This room is luxurious in comparison.

Susdavi opens another sliding door, a smaller one that holds bath necessities and towels. “Closet,” she says, stating the obvious. “Anything you’ll need will be in here. Now, the tub.” She turns towards the object in question. “I get my hot water from an underground hot spring, so there’s no shortage of it. Not that I think you’ll go crazy, but it’s there for consumption. Enough for both of you and Ryn. You just have to turn the left handle. The right handle will run cool, fresh well water.”

Corin nods, trying to keep up with all the new information when she bops him on the nose. He stares at her fingertip, cross-eyed. She chuckles. “Anyways, have fun getting him in the tub. I’ll be minding my own business below.” She gives him a wink and he can feel yet another flush creep up.

Before he can say anything, Susdavi turns back out the door. He huffs before getting a few thick towels from the linen closet and setting them on the counter. Looking over the tub again, he can’t help but admire the craftsmanship. It’s solid rock and rounded on the edges; he runs his hand along an edge to feel how smooth it is before turning the water on.

He waits a few beats before putting his hand under the faucet to feel that it’s already plenty warm. Plugging the drain so the water can rise and turning the well-water tap to keep the bath from getting too hot, he waits for the tub to fill up all the way before shutting the water off.

He eyes the bath salts and oils she has out on the counters, reading the labels before setting them back down. Testing the water once last time, he’s confident that it’s not too hot and goes back to the bedroom to get Din.

He sits down on the edge of the bed and shakes Din’s shoulder gently to wake him up. When that doesn’t work, he runs his fingers through the man’s dark hair, marveling that he’s even able to as he speaks in a hushed tone. “Hey...I have a bath drawn up for you. It's just waiting. You’ll feel a lot better if you take one, make you feel warm again…”

Din leans into the touch before he groans, waking up with a grunt as his eyes open to focus on Corin, who puts the helmet in his reach. He takes it soundlessly and puts it on. Corin stands aside as Din manages to pull himself off the bed, offering a steadying hand when he needs it but otherwise keeping his distance.

He goes to pull out some clothes for Din before remembering that everything they brought with them is dirty. Frowning, he turns away from their bags before catching sight of a stack of clothes on top of the dresser. Upon seeing a note left on top, Corin walks over and picks it up. It’s from Susdavi, of course, her handwritten words as blunt and to the point as her spoken ones.

_ Just use them. _

Rolling his eyes fondly and feeling incredibly grateful, he picks up the stack of clothing before quickly following Din to the bathroom. He’s looking at the same bath salts Corin had looked at earlier and Corin clears his throat awkwardly before gesturing around.

“I set out some towels and the toiletries are already out...if you need more hot or cold water, just use th-”

He turns around as he sets Din’s clothes down to find that he is already pulling off his top and his breath catches in his throat as his eyes widen. “Uh, wh-. What are you…”

Din turns his still helmeted head in his direction and Corin stills as Din tells him dryly, “Getting ready to take a bath.”

He’s kicking off his boots and begins to undo his pants, and that’s when Corin quickly redirects his gaze, trying to look anywhere but towards Din. His mouth feels dry as he manages to get out, “Okay, w-well. I’m....going to help Susdavi with dinner, you just...j-just call out if you need something, okay?”

When he sees Din reach up for his helmet, Corin quickly turns around and moves out of the room. He can feel eyes burning into his back as he makes his escape before he shuts the door behind him. He leans against the door and deflates as he presses his head against it, closing his eyes. He lets out a shaky breath, too overwhelmed to figure out his racing thoughts.

_ Where do we even stand with one another now? _

Din had said family, but in what way? Brushing his fingers through his hair and pulling at it rougher than necessary, he can’t make sense of what he and Din are to each other now. Din is obviously on a different page than he is, but he doesn’t know  _ what one. _

Kriff, he doesn’t even know how Mandalorian culture works, forget about the minor details!

A loud and pointed cough interrupts his thoughts, sparing him from his anxious spiral. He opens his eyes and moves from his place against the door to the top of the staircase. Susdavi is at the bottom of it, smirking lightly.

“If you’re just going to stand around, you might as well do it in the kitchen and make use of your hands for me, yeah?”

Corin purses his lips together and manages a nod. He makes his way down the stairs slowly and gets a pat on his shoulder when he comes abreast to Susdavi. He smiles wanly at her and follows her to the kitchen to help with the dinner.

He doesn’t recall much of what he helped prep, his mind fuzzy and distracted. When he’s done, he takes a bowl of the soup up to Din before realizing he is still in the bathroom. He pauses by the bathroom door, listening. When he doesn't hear anything, he continues on to the bedroom where he leaves the soup and bread on the nightstand, the bowl radiating warmth and a rich aroma.

As he makes his way back toward the stairs, he finally hears something from the bathroom and pauses for a second time to make sure it’s not Din in need of assistance. After not hearing much of anything else, he heads back downstairs to finish his meal with Susdavi and the Child; he figures Din could probably do with some personal space right now after being in such close quarters for the last week.

Corin leisurely finishes his own bowl of soup, using a slice of bread to soak up the last little bit that remained at the bottom. The Child watches him, head cocked to the side before mimicking him, getting soup all over his mouth and hands. Corin smiles at the sight of the kid getting messy and reaches to grab something to clean up the mess. Susdavi beats him to the task and fusses over the kid, using a rag to wipe his face.

As he puts his dishes away in the sink, Corin hears a door open and close upstairs. Susdavi doesn’t acknowledge the sound, she focuses on talking with the Child as she continues to clean off his hands instead. Knowing the kid is in good care, Corin quietly goes upstairs to make sure Din has eaten.

He taps at the semi-closed door to alert Din of his presence before slowly opening it. The Mandalorian has his helmet on once more -- Corin can’t help but note how small it makes Din seem without the rest of his armor -- and his bowl is empty, only bread crumbs remaining. He’s polishing up a piece of armor that Corin had brought up earlier that day, so Corin just offers him a nod and a small smile before grabbing his bowl. He slips away just as quietly as he had come in, going downstairs to clean the bowl.

Susdavi waves him off with a huff when he goes to wash the dishes and clean up her kitchen.

“Nonsense, boy. You look dead on your feet. Shoo! Go wash up and get to sleep. I don’t need you falling over and taking up all my floor space.”

Corin  _ does  _ feel exhausted to his core and awfully grimy. He decides not to push his luck with the elderly Twi’lek and he sighs before going back upstairs.

He had taken the entire stack of new clothes Susdavi had given them into the bathroom when he had directed Din there, so he makes his way straight there without stopping by the bedroom first. Leaning against the door as he locks it, he exhales and the tension in his shoulders deflates. With a heavy sigh, he moves over to the counter and rummages through the remaining clothes. He finds a deep teal shirt, pants comfortable enough to sleep in, and clean underwear.

He nods to himself before moving over to the tub and starting up the water. Remembering how fast it had warmed earlier, he sticks his hand under the water flow until it’s hot. Letting it run and begin to fill the tub, he strips down and then turns on the other tap to cut the edge off the heat. He waits until the water reaches a decent depth before gingerly stepping into it. It's hot, almost scalding, but his body quickly adjusts to it as he sinks down, joints protesting.

A sigh escapes him as he leans his head back against the side of the tub. He stares up at the off white ceiling before he sinks further down into the water, holding his breath. Running his fingers through his hair and pulling them through knots, he reemerges to reach up and grab at some soap to clean his hair of the last week’s worth of grime. He closes his eyes, massaging at his scalp and working the soap into a thick lather. Still feeling like his hair isn’t entirely clean, he ducks back under the water to rinse the soap out before soaping it up once more.

His body aches and his muscles feel weak and unsubstantial as they loosen up to the hot water. He does his best to scrub the sweat and dirt from his body, using one of the small pumice stones Susdavi kept on the side of the tub to get at the particularly stubborn patches. Eyes closed and body lax, he lets himself soak for a moment after rinsing the soap off.

Despite the remaining soreness in his body and how tempting it is to stay in the water until his skin is soft and wrinkly, Corin decides it’s time to get out after a while. He can feel the water getting cool and despite Susdavi’s assurances that there is plenty of hot water to spare, old spaceborne habits die hard. He feels guilty for using as much water as he has already, too used to taking a quick sponge and rag baths when out in the black.

Corin gets out and dries off quickly, tightening the towel around his waist before moving to a small mirror on the wall. He takes in his reflection with a critical eye, noting the dark circles, the ways the freckles across his nose and cheeks and the light crows feet at the corners of his eyes are more pronounced by the harsh wind and sun despite the goggles and face mask.

The sun had brought out the lighter variations of color in his hair, too. It's getting long and unruly, the curls twisting around his ears and the back of his neck, but he's not confident in his ability to trim it without making a mess out of things. Sighing, he drags his fingers through the strands, trying to tame it just a  _ little  _ before giving it up as a lost cause.

The unkept week's worth of beard growth, however, is something he  _ can  _ do something about.

He deliberates for only a moment before poking through Susdavi's drawers in search of anything he might be able to use to remove some of the excess length. After searching for a minute, he’s about ready to give up, having found nothing even remotely sharp enough to trim his beard with. He’s half-heartedly pushing a bundle of fabric to the side when he reveals the handle of a large pocket knife. The fabric the knife is nestled in is the same type that Susdavi is currently using as a headpiece, so Corin figures she uses it to cut the fabric.

Which means it’s probably plenty sharp enough for his needs.

He flips the blade out and tests its sharpness carefully on the pad of his thumb. Satisfied that it would get the job done at least, Corin starts trimming. He’s certain the knife isn’t sharp enough to go for a close shave, so he settles for simply taking some of the excessive length down for now. He begins at his chin, pulling the hair taut with the fingers of one hand while cutting with the other, trying not to use a sawing motion. It takes longer than he’d have liked and the end result is certainly not perfect, but he feels better after. More put together, like he  _ might  _ have his life under control.

He rinses the blade off and puts it back where he found it before meticulously cleaning all of his trimmed hair off the counter and putting it in the waste bin.

A realization hits him as he’s making his way back to the room, causing him to pause in the hallway.

There’s only one bed. The house is relatively small and there are Susdavi’s room and the room she gave them, which he had taken because they needed a place to stay that wasn’t going to put a dent in their funds; he hadn’t known when he accepted their offer that they were going to still be paid in full by their client despite losing most of the target. Now, despite having shared the same sleeping bag for the last four nights, he feels anxiety creep under his skin. It had been necessary to keep Din warm and besides, they had lost the other sleeping bag anyway. There hadn’t been any other choice.

And while they had done  _ some  _ talking and had a few...  _ moments _ , kriff if he knew what any of it meant now that everything was going back to the old status quo.

_ Should I sleep on the couch? _

He grimaces at the thought of trying to sleep downstairs; he’d wanted to sleep in a proper bed after the past few days. He’s exhausted and sore and he can’t even think straight.

In a bit of a daze, Corin begins walking to the room again. His thoughts skitter from his current dilemma to something much less troublesome: the Child, and where he was going to sleep that night. The kid is with Susdavi, now, and he trusts her enough to know he’s in safe hands. He figures he doesn't need to worry about him and that Susdavi would find a place where the Child can sleep soundly.

“Corin?”

He jerks from his thoughts at the sound of Din’s voice, unsure of how long he had been standing just inside the bedroom door. He blinks a few times before his vision refocuses and he quickly finds Din sitting on the bed.

“What’s wrong?” he asks worriedly, his own problems forgotten in favor of helping Din with his.

“I’m fine. Are  _ you  _ alright?”

A strained chuckle escapes him as he rubs at the back of his neck, not looking at Din’s helmeted face. “Yeah, I’m totally fine. No problems here."

The tilt of his head and his pointed silence conveys Din’s disbelief perfectly and Corin quickly caves under his gaze.

“Yeah, okay. I was just....trying to figure out where I’m going to sleep…” His voice trails off softly, words mumbled together.

But of course, Din catches them.

“What do you mean?” he says with a different head tilt.

Corin gnaws on his lower lip, eyes skittering away from Din. “Well, there’s only the one bed in here and I figured you’d use it because you’re still recovering so I was just going to go downstairs and sleep on the couch.” It’s all said in a rush and he wishes he could just melt into the floor. Why is this so hard?

“Corin. There’s no reason you can’t use the bed, too.”

“...What.”

Din sighs. Plainly, he says, “We can share the bed.”

“Oh,” Corin swallows thickly, gripping onto the doorframe. “Are...are you sure?”

Din regards him silently for a moment. “We’ve done it before when we didn’t have any other options. This isn’t any different.” He pauses for a moment then continues, voice a little lower than before. “Please?”

Corin swallows. “Right...okay.”

Except, it  _ is  _ different. At least for Corin it is. He manages to nod as he shuts the door behind him. Hesitantly, he moves up to the side of the bed before setting his dirty clothes on the floor. He sits down on the edge of the bed and taps at the mattress anxiously. Sighing, he lays back, body stiff, unsure if he should adjust the pillow digging awkwardly into his neck. Din lays down next to him, shuffling around until he is on his side, facing Corin fully.

“Corin, just...relax?”

Corin sighs and shifts a little as he forcefully clears his head of any thoughts. He focuses instead on his breathing, letting the tension leave his body incrementally with each breath.

Eventually, Corin’s thoughts become fuzzy as he drifts closer and closer to sleep. At some point he rolls to his side and curls up against Din; he's just awake enough to feel the creeping edges of apprehension at the way Din's body stills against his. But then Din is moving and Corin hears the hiss of his helmet's latches.

Corin hums in question as he turns his head slightly. He feels a hand hesitantly comb through his hair and hears, quietly, "Go to sleep, Corin." The hand passes over his hair again and Corin sighs, mumbling words too slurred to comprehend even by his own ears.

The hand settles on his shoulder, pulling him close. Corin goes with it, rolling again until he's almost on his stomach. He hums once more, moving an arm to curl around the torso beneath him before nuzzling against a neck. He breathes deeply before letting out a contented sigh.

He's fully asleep in moments.

\--

Wakefulness creeps over him slowly, quietly. He doesn’t open his eyes yet, preferring instead to take in his surroundings with his other senses. It’s so very rare that he is able to simply  _ be  _ without needing to get up and rush off to do something. He decides it’s a moment worth savoring.

The first thing he notices is the stillness. There’s a muffled quality to the sounds he can hear, though he is getting them from a long way off. The house around him creaks and groans as the wind buffets it; he can hear the soft murmuring of Susdavi somewhere in the house and he briefly wonders where the Child is before he hears his soft coo in response to whatever Susdavi is telling him. Corin smiles lazily, eyes still closed.

The next thing he notices is how  _ warm  _ he is. How his whole body feels relaxed and loose with no shivering causing his muscles to cramp. He feels heavy and languid; while part of him still wants to stretch and unfurl, the rest of him is content to simply stay buried under the mound of blankets on top of him while melting into the heat of the body below his and--

He opens his eyes but doesn’t get up.

His right arm is still wrapped around Din’s chest, his hand splayed along his ribs. He can feel the strong, steady thump of Din’s heart and it’s such a comfort after the last few days that Corin can’t help but hold on tighter. Din shifts and Corin realizes their legs are tangled together, too; he might as well be laying on Din entirely for the amount their bodies are pressed together.

He waits for the dread and apprehension from the night before to creep up in his chest but. It never comes. For once, he is utterly content with where he is.

Letting out a long sigh, Corin lifts his head from where it had been pillowed on Din’s chest and looks at the other man.

Somehow, Din is still asleep. Other than the last few days, Corin thinks he can count on one hand the number of times he had been awake when the Mandalorian was still sleeping.

Vaguely, he remembers Din jostling him from near-sleep to remove his helmet before settling back down alongside him. And right now, his helmet sits guard on the tiny nightstand on Corin’s side of the bed. His head is turned toward Corin, his horrible helmet hair sticking out in all directions on the pillow.

Corin bites at his lip and takes in Din’s face, committing it to memory. While Din had kept the helmet off while in their tent during the last few days, his face had been lined with exhaustion and pain. He hadn’t had the helmet off by choice, not really, and so Corin had worked hard to  _ not  _ look at his face when he could help it.

But this time...This time Din had removed his helmet because he wanted to. Because he could. Corin’s eyes move over Din’s features, noting the lack of tension between his eyes and at the corners of his mouth. He is utterly relaxed. The fact that he is  _ sound asleep  _ and relaxed with Corin so close to him causes Corin’s chest to ache. He had somehow earned this man’s trust and he doesn’t quite know how he had done it.

His eyes trace over the curve of Din’s nose, along his eyebrows and the slight wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. The laugh lines on either side of his mouth are a bit of a surprise, but a good one; he wants to see Din’s smile. Hear his laugh.

Unthinking, he reaches out and touches Din’s face, wanting to engrave it in his memory not just by sight, but by touch as well. His fingers start at his jaw, running back along the edge of it to the corner at his ear. He marvels at the scruff lining his face; he hadn’t imagined it when they first met but he finds that it suits him so damn well. He caresses his cheekbone gently with his thumb, then down his nose. He has the overwhelming urge to press his lips to his temple and he manages to keep it in check, only to get distracted once more by his mess of hair.

Din must have stuck his helmet on after his bath without drying it properly because it’s an absolute disaster. Parts of it stick straight out from his head, others are flattened awkwardly and in weird directions. A strand of hair curls up behind his ear and Corin can’t help but pinch it between his fingers and drag it between them. He then moves to the fringe curling over Din’s forehead, brushing the shaggy strands from his eyes.

Despite being shoved into the helmet still damp, Din’s hair is soft and fine and Corin can’t resist the urge this time to run his fingers through it. His touch is feather-light at first, barely shifting the thick hair. On the second pass, however, he lets his fingers push through it, moving it aside, disturbing the flat portions and taming the wild ones.

He’s on this third pass when he freezes, startled, as Din leans into his touch with a soft sigh. Din mumbles something and while Corin can’t make it out entirely, he’s pretty sure it was in Mando’a; one day he’ll gather the courage to ask Din to teach the language to him. Corin draws his hand from Din’s hair a bit regretfully and moves back a little.

He’s still leaning slightly over him, a soft smile on his face. His chest is warm with relief and contentment, and he feels so incredibly lucky to be here right then, that Din is safe and they’re both warm and alive.

Quietly, his own voice still sleep rough, he says, “Morning, Din.”

He really should have expected Din’s reaction; things were different now. Back to normal, really. Din goes from relaxed and mostly still asleep to startled awake almost immediately. He stares at Corin, eyes wide, before shifting out from under him and moving away. He sits up on the far side of the bed, his back to Corin. Head hanging low, he runs his hands through his hair and over his face.

_ “Osi'kyr...  _ ” Corin hears Din mutter, and he doesn’t need to know Mando’a to recognize when a phrase likely translates to something like ‘ _ oh, shit. _ ’

Which is exactly what’s going through his own head. Heart in his throat and stomach somewhere near his toes, Corin closes his eyes and starts to curse himself for getting comfortable with their temporary closeness, the physical contact, the soft words.

A mistake. Bad luck.

Good things never stay for Corin.

“I’m sorry,” he says softly, eyes down. He curls into himself, makes himself smaller, as he moves to get up and leave.

A hand closes around his wrist. It's not a tight grip -- Corin could easily pull away if he wanted to. But he doesn't. He stops moving, head down. He glances over briefly, but Din's not looking at him, staring instead at Corin’s hand in his own.

They sit there for a moment, Din’s hand around Corin’s wrist, not looking at each other, and Corin can’t take it anymore.

“Why…” he feels Din’s fingers twitch around his wrist and he swallows before pushing forward. “Why is it different now? The...the helmet. You had it off for days except when we were on the move. Why is it a problem to have it off around me now?”

Din remains quiet. Corin watches him stare intently at where his hand wraps around his wrist. He’s about ready to sigh and pull away, to give up on Din actually saying anything, when Din brushes his thumb along the delicate skin on the inside of Corin’s wrist; he feels a shiver run up his arm at the touch.

After letting out a gusting sigh, Din glances up at Corin before darting his eyes away once more. He rubs at his face with his free hand.

“I…” He sighs, and Corin can hear frustration in the sound. Din’s thumb continues to brush over his wrist, back and forth, back and forth, and he realizes the motion is meant to be soothing.

But it isn’t to soothe Corin. Rather, it’s to soothe Din himself. He bites at the inside of his cheek to keep back another sigh. “Din, I’m sorry. It’s okay. We don't... If I’m pushing you, it can wai-”

Din cuts him off, his voice low but insistent. “No. I need to say this. I just. I need a moment.”

Corin nods and flicks his fingers against the part of Din’s hand that he can reach. “Okay. I can wait.” He shifts on the bed, drawing one of his legs up against his chest and rests the arm not held by Din on it. He rests his head on his arm and watches Din.

“It's. Hard. Being without the helmet on.” Din waves his free hand in a vague motion around his head. “Everything is...too much. Too bright. Too loud. Too direct.”

Corin nods but doesn’t say anything; he guessed as much the last time Din had sensory issues. But then Din continues.

“I...I obviously take the helmet off to eat and drink. To bathe. Sometimes to sleep. But. Other than that first time I took it off for you and most of this last week...I haven’t had my helmet off around another living being for…”

As Din trails off, Corin feels his stomach drop.

“How long?” he prompts quietly.

Another sigh and this time Din looks out of the room’s small window. His voice is quiet, slightly pained. “Since I was thirteen. So. Twenty-three years. Give or take.”

Corin stares at Din’s profile, aghast. He doesn’t know what to say. What could  _ anyone  _ say to that? He feels his eyes get itchy and warm as they brim with tears; he can’t bring himself to care, too caught up in the idea of Din having gone most of his life without removing his helmet around others.

As a tear spills over, Corin doesn’t stop to think before he leans forward and gives in to his earlier urge to press a kiss to Din’s temple. He freezes at the feel of Din’s fingers tightening on his wrist, worried that he had pushed the other man too far, crossed another line, but Din just kind of leans into him with a long sigh. Slowly, Corin brings his hand up and cards his fingers through Din’s hair.

He feels Din’s grip flex against his wrist, bare fingers on the soft delicate skin, and Corin finds that he  _ wants.  _ He wants to hold Din close, always, to offer him comfort. He wants to feel Din’s strong hands on more than just his wrist. He wants--

Din is shaking lightly against him. Not the shivering trembles from their harrowing journey back, but the light shaking caused by too much emotion and overwhelming sensation.

So, not now. Not now. Corin carefully shifts away from Din to lean over the bed and grab the helmet still sitting on his nightstand. He leans back, helmet in hand, and holds it out to Din, his eyes down. He now understands why Din couldn’t seem to keep eye contact for very long, why he seemed restless and fidgety when Corin had looked at him without his helmet. He feels shame well up for having caused Din such discomfort then, but the past was the past. They have time, now.

He doesn’t know what he’s doing, where their relationship stands and where it might go, but he’s realizing that Din likely knows even less than he does. It brings him an odd sense of comfort, knowing they were stumbling in the dark together over this.

As Din moves to take the helmet from him, letting his wrist go in the process, Corin says quietly, “It’s alright, Din.” He feels the shaking of the Mandalorian’s hand through the helmet when he grasps it, hears a soft sigh.

Din doesn’t put the helmet on immediately like Corin had expected him to. Instead, he runs his hands over the shining metal. Corin doesn’t look up at his face again, choosing to keep his eyes on Din’s restless hands in an attempt to give him space.

Din startles him by saying, “You said that once before. On the ride out. What did you mean then?”

It takes Corin a moment to remember what he’s talking about and he blushes when he does. Now it’s his turn to look away.

“I had just meant that...that you had been upset when I had gone from using your name to  _ not  _ using it again all of a sudden.” He pauses, biting at his bottom lip. “I had assumed you didn’t want me using your name around others… so I didn’t. But that upset you, too. And I didn’t notice until I used it again.”

He turns to face Din again. The other man is no longer looking out the window and is instead focused once more on his helmet. Corin continues with a swallow. If Din could admit to something so personal, so could he. “And I understand that. Hearing…..hearing you say  _ Corin  _ reminds me that I'm no longer CT-113. That I’m my own person again. I….I’m guessing it’s something similar for you?” He ignores the way his heart races at his confession, choosing instead to focus on Din’s hands once more.

The Mandalorian is quiet for a moment before sighing. “Sort of. I...the clan that took me in as a foundling had a...a practice. Where, when a founding was fully initiated and given their first  _ buy'ce  _ ...ah.” He pauses, tapping at his finger on the piece of armor in his hands. “Helmet. When they were given their first helmet, their name was written down in the records before they were stripped of it and they simply became one of the  _ Mando’ade  _ .” He stops there, turning the helmet over and over in his hands.

Corin quickly connects the dots.

He can’t help but look up at Din now, taking in his profile as he looks down at his helmet.

“Wait.  _ Wait _ . Are you telling me that...not only have you not had your helmet off in front of another person since you were thirteen, but you were also denied your  _ name  _ for just as long?” Somehow, this is worse than what he had gone through. At least he had been sixteen when he lost his own name. At least he had been allowed to remove his helmet, had been allowed a nickname within his squadron.

Something else occurs to him and he feels like his already racing heart might burst out of his chest. “ _ And I’m the first person you've revealed both to?” _

Din doesn’t respond. He’s not even fiddling with the helmet at this point and Corin stares at him, utterly confused.

“But  _ why?”  _ he asks, his voice cracking.  _ “  _ Why me?”

Din looks at him then out of the corner of his eye. “I told you before. You are...  _ aliit.  _ ”

“Family,” Corin clarifies, still unsure of what Din  _ means  _ by that.

“Yes,” Din says, simply. Like it was just that simple.

Corin shakes his head, needing more of an answer. “But.  _ Why?” _

Din lets out a groan of frustration. He shifts in his spot on the bed before spinning his helmet in his hands and putting it back on. Had Din not explained the significance of the helmet to him, he might have been offended. As it is, he’s surprised it had taken Din so long to put it on again.

“I... _Corin._ How am I supposed to explain it…?” He rubs at the back of his neck where his helmet and sleep shirt don't meet, clearly frustrated. Whether it is with Corin or himself, Corin can’t tell. “I...I left the kid behind, once. Nearly left him behind a second time, thinking it was for the best. And I regret it every day.” He swallows and his voice is strained when he continues. “I almost left you behind, too. I did, even, and you would have died had the kid not forced me back. And I regret that choice to leave you more than anything. You are… _ruusaanyc bal_ _cyare'se._ Everything. _Aliit_.”

Corin is shaking his head, tears running unchecked down his face. He doesn’t understand all of what Din had said, but he doesn’t need to. He can hear the earnest insistence in the words, how much Din means them.

“I don’t…I’m not...”

“Corin.  _ Aliit ori'shya tal'din.  _ Family is more than blood. You’ve saved my life multiple times now. I trust you. With the kid and with myself. And I l--” He cuts himself off with a shake of his head. He’s quiet for a moment. “I care about you, Corin. That’s why you know my name. Why I...why I’ve decided to drop my old clan’s version of the creed in favor of the creed upheld by the covert."

Corin closes his eyes. He’s still not sure he gets it. He doesn’t know what Din sees in him, a former stormtrooper. How he can say he trusts him with his life and that of the kid. But he wants to try.

“Okay,” he says, quietly. He nods a few times. “Okay.”

They sit in silence for a moment before Din moves off the bed and begins to put his armor on for the day. Corin follows suit and gets dressed, his mind still reeling.

“That...that all being said,” Din says, strapping one of his pauldrons on. “Having the helmet off around you and the Child will be. Difficult. It’s...overwhelming.”

Corin is already nodding again as he adjusts his shirts to get them to lay right. “That’s okay. I get it. We--” he coughs, quickly correcting himself-- “you take all the time you need to adjust. I’ve got no expectations. You do whatever makes you comfortable.”

When Din doesn’t respond, Corin looks up at him. The other man is standing near the window, the wan winter light glinting dully off his armor. He’s standing still, staring at him, one hand in the process of tugging a glove onto his other.

Corin feels a flush creep up his neck. “What?”

“Thank you,” Din says, simply, before moving to pull the glove on all the way.

Corin smiles crookedly at him, unsure what he's being thanked for.

“Of course.”

\--

Corin offered to bring something up for Din for breakfast but the man was itching to get out of the bed and do  _ something  _ after days of nothing but rest. Or, well, that’s what Corin gathered from all of his mumbling during his failed attempts to reattach some of his more difficult to reach armor. Corin had chuckled while helping him get the plate on his back attached.

It turns out that Susdavi had neglected to wake them up that morning for breakfast. When Corin and Din finally make it down to the kitchen, she is sitting at her table, nursing her tea without a lick of guilt on her face. They sit with her at the table, Din content to hold a mug between his hands for the warmth and Corin digging into a mix of fish and eggs that he finds he doesn’t particularly hate. The spices in it are mild and enjoyable and he thinks he’ll have to ask Susdavi about them.

Din speaks, voice still rough with sleep, “Thank you for all that you’ve done for us. All of us. Is there...anything we can do to repay you?”

She shakes her head immediately, “Nuh-uh, don’t start. You don’t owe me anything. In fact, I don’t like being owed and I don’t want to owe. Forget about it, call it the kindness of my heart if it makes you feel better. Just take it easy, Mando. I’ll hit you upside the head if you don’t, a near-death experience or not.”

Almost as an afterthought, she adds, “Just take care of your young man while you’re at it. He’s a rare breed, that, and you better appreciate him for all he is.”

Corin lets out a chuckle, feeling a little awkward and thinking that she’s joking. But then he notices when Din turns his head in his direction. Despite the helmet visor in the way, Corin knows Din is looking straight at him as he says, “I know.”

Not knowing what to say, flustered beyond belief by his serious tone, Corin averts his gaze and eats up the rest of his breakfast quickly before standing. “I’m going to get started on putting the equipment away,” he mumbles, making a speedy retreat out the door.

The task is slow going by himself, but Susdavi and Din join him after tidying up the kitchen. As he goes through the few bags they were able to bring back, he sorts out their supplies from Susdavi’s. Corin only lets Din handle the bags and supplies he gives to him; he knows full well that Din is probably recovered enough that he does not need to worry about him but he can’t help it. Meanwhile, Susdavi hauls around the larger items like they’re nothing and Corin doesn’t bother asking if she needs help.

After everything is back in its proper place, and their gear is ready to be taken back to the Razor Crest, Corin and Din go out to pick up supplies and parts to fix up the ship, following Susdavi’s recommendation for the best shops. Corin thanks his lucky stars that the only mechanic shop in the village had the parts the Razor Crest needed. It won’t take him long to make the needed repairs and then they’ll be on their way. It’s a sobering thought to realize they’ll be leaving any day now. He’d grown to really like Susdavi’s company.

Once back at Susdavi’s, Din reluctantly goes upstairs for an afternoon nap, grumbling the entire way up. While he was indeed doing much better, his body still had some recovering to do.

Corin watches from the porch as the kid plays with his new friend, quietly using the time to ponder. He’d helped Susdavi cut up some ingredients for tonight’s meal and decided he wanted a moment’s peace; outside was as good a place as any for it. He isn’t alone long, however, as Susdavi joins him after a while and sits by his side.

She’s quiet for a few a while before she gestures out at the two youngsters with her cane. “You know that runt he’s grown so fond of? That is one of Uhri’s pups, the smallest of the lot. The kid’s really helped the poor thing... I don’t know how she’ll fare once you’re gone.”

He furrows his brow, watching the little sog hop around the Child excitedly and seeking out touches. “I’m sorry. Hadn’t you said Uhri stopped feeding her litter?”

She nods. “The pup might end up okay. Seems like Ryn has gotten pretty attached, though. They slept through the night curled up together. Totally inseparable.”

He doesn’t know what to say, knowing just by watching the two play that what she said is true. She doesn’t let him flounder for long, however.

“You should take her with you.”

Eyes widening comically, he barely imagines entertaining the thought before he thinks of a certain disappointed Mandalorian. “Oh...oh! No, I...I couldn’t do that.”

“Sure you can.”

“It’s...it’s not my ship. It’s not up to me, it’s up to the Mandalorian.”

Susdavi rolls her eyes and taps the end of her cane on the porch. “Oh, please. You could eat a lothcat live and that man would still look at you as if you hung the moons for him.”

He grimaces at the idea of him eating  _ anything  _ live before spluttering, “I- he- you can’t even see his face!”

She stares at him, eyebrow raised. “Yes, and?”

Corin gestures out uselessly, trying to convey that he has no say in the matter before caving, “Okay! I’ll talk to him about it after dinner, alright?”

Susdavi stands back up and pats his cheek gently. “You got this.” Her eyes light up with an idea as she pinches him. “In fact, tell him that’s how he can repay me. That’ll get him.”

He chokes as she goes back inside, realizing that she’s probably not wrong.

Din wakes up after another hour when Corin goes up to gently shake him awake. He sets a bowl of soup on the nightstand for him, having already eaten downstairs with Susdavi. He figured it was better to let him sleep more than have him deal with small formalities. He helps him take off his helmet despite his protests that he was perfectly capable of doing it himself, thank you, knowing that Susdavi wouldn’t try to come into the room without at least knocking.

Corin waits until he’s no longer clearly half asleep when he brings up Susdavi’s suggestion, “So, about the new friend that the kid made…”

The Mandalorian freezes mid-sip, his eyes narrowing at him, “What about the thing?”

Corin smiles sheepishly, “They seem really attached to each other... I’d hate to break them apart…”

“Corin…”

He blurts out what Susdavi had told him, “She said if you want to repay her, that’s how!”

Din blinks, sighing as he relaxes from his tense posture. “I’ll...I’ll think about it. Let me see how they interact for myself, first.”

Corin waits for him to finish off his meal and put his helmet back on. They go downstairs together and he shows him the kid and the sog still out on the porch. They’re not playing, obviously having exhausted each other out, and are instead curled into one another, the sog laying on her back with her tentacles outstretched. Din sighs softly and Corin can’t help glancing at him when he does.

Din watches the two sleeping younglings, his shoulders slumped in defeat. He turns to Corin before he nods. “Fine, we can take her with us. We’re not calling her sog, though.”

Corin laughs, eyes creasing. “That works for me.”

\--

“We’ve got to get moving.”

“Oh, must you, now?”

Din turns his head towards Susdavi and Corin can just feel the disdain through his helmet. He bites down a smile, rubbing a hand through his overgrown scruff.

“We’re always being tracked. Didn’t we tell you this the first time we tried to say goodbye?”

Corin chuckles. Din had wanted to go back to the ship the night prior to fix it up, but Susdavi managed to distract him with conversation and convince him that it could wait until morning.

“Sure, sure. But staying another night didn’t hurt, now, did it? In fact,” Susdavi winks at Corin without being any sort of subtle about it, “I’d say you two slept rather well considering how late you were up again.”

Corin lets out a snort, his face going bright red. Din whips his head in his direction and he raises his hands in defense, sputtering, “It’s not like she’s wrong! Besides, we got our supplies gathered and the parts for the ship. It’s not like we don’t have to go hunting for them. We have time.”

Din grunts in response.

“We still have to go.”

Corin sighs, knowing full well that he’s right and only has their, and Susdavi’s, best interests in mind. It makes him sad, for despite the hard times they had out in the blizzard, this adventure had brought them good things, too. They got to know Susdavi well the last few days and made a lifelong friend. Or, he hopes as much, at least.

He feels a hand on his shoulder and turns to face Susdavi. There’s a small smile on her face as she pulls him into a hug. “I will see you again, wanderer. Don’t you doubt it.”

A smile stretches across his own face as he returns the hug tightly. Before he pulls away he says, “We’ll see each other again. The little sog will have to meet her own kind often so she grows up properly.”

Susdavi nods, “Yes. A perfect excuse. Don’t forget to give her a name! I do not wish to see you in a year’s time to find out that she is ‘the sog’ to go along with Ryn being ‘the Child’.”

Din clears his throat and speaks gruffly, “Gi’ika. Her name is...Gi’ika.”

Corin translates, voice deadpan, “He named her fish.”

Susdavi laughs, her head thrown back. “That’s a good a name as any for her, I suppose.”

The Child coos at their feet, standing next to the sog in question, “Geegee!”

Susdavi smiles down at the pair of them. “Ah. Gigi. A good choice, Ryn.”

He giggles happily, patting at the top of Gigi’s head.

Din turns to Susdavi, his hands raised in front of him, palms facing each other, a gap in between them. Solemnly, he says, “ _ Kei’nata tun, Haoy.” _

Susdavi stares at him for a moment, eyes narrowed critically. Corin watches, not fully understanding, as Susdavi straightens up and places her hands on either side of Din’s. Din’s shoulders go back in what Corin recognizes as surprise and Susdavi is staring him down through his helmet.

Voice just as serious as his, she replies, “ _ Sahak Chir,”  _ before a wide grin stretches across her face.

Din lets out a loud bark of laughter and Susdavi manages to pull him in for a hug. Corin is slightly surprised that Din not only lets her but returns it, too. He’s glad, though. Very glad.

After letting Din go, Susdavi looks down at the Child and gives a small wave.

_ “Ka’ta,  _ Ryn.”

The Child cocks his head to the side before waving back, face serious. Susdavi smiles fondly and leans down to give his ear a soft tug. Straightening, she turns to face the two of them once more.

“Farewell, travelers. Don’t be strangers!”

Corin picks the Child up and gets him situated in the birikad as Din responds, “We won’t.” Corin smiles, grabbing Gigi and tucking her in alongside the kid. He looks up and gets another hug from the elderly Twi’lek. He hugs her back, careful not to smash the two strapped to his chest.

Feeling a tug at his sleeve, he turns to Din and nods. They pick up their bags and with one last wave at Susdavi, make their way out of her yard and on their way back to the ship.

They get a decent distance away from the village when Corin turns back to take in the sight of it one more time. He hopes this isn’t the last time and that it becomes somewhere they can come back to on occasion. Din pauses, too, and looks back with him. He doesn’t say anything, but Corin knows that he feels the same.

Moving to touch Din’s elbow, he looks over at the Mandalorian and asks, simply, “Home?”

Din’s quiet for a second before nodding his head and taking a hold of Corin’s hand. He squeezes it briefly. “Yeah, home.”

Corin’s heart flips as they begin walking again towards the Razor Crest, chest warm and full a nd hopes high.

“Where are we going next?”

“You’ll see.”

“ _ Din!  _ ”

.

.

.

.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aannnnnd our boys' relationship is officially....in a super nebulous undefined state of being lol. But they have a new member to their little family! Yay! 
> 
> Coming up next will be five short 'slice of life' fics that will bridge part 3 with the upcoming part 4. They're almost exclusively plotless fluff tbh but they will have some sort of roll in part 4 in one way or another. They will be posted in the same series as Adore You and the first two fics, but they will also be the first 5 in what will become a much larger collection of short fics. The working series title has been "TLC" and all fics posted in it will basically be just that: tender love and care. Soft snippets of Corin's and Din's day to day existence together. So keep on the look out for that series! We're super excited to work on it!
> 
> Sogs inspired in part by the lovely creature designs by [Anthony Hutchings on Artist Station](https://www.artstation.com/artwork/zrLVD)  
> Find the drawing of Susdavi and the sogs [on my art blog](https://foxprints.tumblr.com/post/190959583410/susdavi-two-of-her-alien-squid-dogs-sogs-and)  
> Comments and Kudos are incredibly appreciated. While we don't have the energy and spoons and time to respond to every one of them, we DO read them all. They seriously keep us writing and we love every one we get.
> 
> Translations:  
> aliit - family  
> ruusaanyc - reliable, trustworthy  
> bal - and  
> cyare'se - loved ones  
> aliit ori'shya tal'din - family is more than blood  
> kei'nata tun - traditional Twi'lek greeting or farewell meaning 'respect to you'  
> haoy - clan matron  
> sahak chir - very informal farewell meaning 'avoid death' and is typically said sarcastically  
> ka'ta - bye-bye!


End file.
